From: Pod Record of Player Diego 'Luca' Torres

"That rat bastard!" Enzio cursed. "No good, cowardly, piece of shit!"

"We don't know what happened," Belen sighed out. Any bite she might have had at their friend's habit of jumping to conclusions was mitigated by the desolate feeling she would be experiencing at the sight of their camp.

Not that Luca could blame his sister. He was feeling pretty dismal himself.

The room itself hadn't collapsed, thankfully, but that was where the good news ended. Their stuff had been scattered all over the place, packs knocked over and their contents strewn across the room. Their extra clothes were filthy, but did not appear damaged beyond that. Not so for their tents and bed rolls, all of which had been used as chew toys or ropes for tug-of-war by either the wolves or some any other creatures that had passed through. They were shredded and would need to be replaced. As would their tools, utensils, and other miscellaneous items that had either been chewed to pieces or destroyed because large creatures did not care where they stepped.

All of that could be replaced with little cost. The adventurer lifestyle took a toll and those were common casualties in the wild.

More costly were the sealed jars of spices smashed open, their precious contents mixed with dirt and barely more than splotches in the carved room. Those would set them back a silver at least. Which brought their total cost to at least two gold, half the amount they'd made in the year since they'd begun playing God's Nature.

Once more, Luca's eyes shifted down to the shield held under his arm, its metal bent and torn from where jaws bigger than his head had sunk in and torn it from him, taking his arm with it. 

It was still usable, technically. His skill could still expand it, and it covered most of his body, but its weight was off and there was a hole at the top that made a great window for him to see through... or get an arrow through. His armour, however, was a total loss. It had been pried from his body and lay as little more than shards of metal scraps. Of their weapons, both Enzio's spear and his sword had also been ruined. The former shattered and the latter warped into a an angle that made it unusable except as a very poor boomerang.

Months of work, of saving and growing stronger, all undone in less than twenty minutes. Through no fault of their own. It was easy to understand Enzio's desire to blame Kaisar when all they had left to show for their trouble was a ruined room, a dungeon roused against them, and a pile of half eaten corpses. Including theirs.

Luca shuddered at the memory and refocused.

"What happened is that fox bastard ran for it! I knew we shouldn't have trusted him, he was sketchy from the get go."

"He stayed behind," Luca argued, but there was no strength in his words. "He didn't have to."

"That was probably bullshit too! Probably just wanted us to clear the way for him."

"Maybe," Belen sighed again, pocking at a pile of soiled clothe and wrinkling her nose. Even if they hadn't been torn, it had been left in the dirt for a week and that was plenty of times for bugs to make their home.

"We can check to see if he collapsed the tunnel," Luca suggested and all three looked toward the tunnel deeper into the dungeon, the darkness looming as a gaping maw. All three of them shuddered and Luca's grip further tightened on his shield. He pushed on though. "Maybe he ran, maybe he didn't. We won't know unless we check. Even if he did, its not like I can blame him. We were trying to run too."

"We were trying to run together," Enzio pressed, gesturing around the destroyed room. "We fought as a party and should have fled as one. But we didn't. You want to think the best of him? That's fine, but don't think of him as one of us. It's clear he didn't think so."

Luca grimaced, not liking the idea that the genial and helpful fox beast-kin had been so... craven. Yet he was unable to argue. There was a distinct lack of any of the man's supplies in the destroyed room and there was no corpse in the killing pile outside. 

Had Kaisar fled first? Sure, but they'd also panicked. At least he'd moved. They'd stood frozen in shock and fear, unable to react to the shocking arrival. That's how Belen had gotten hurt, loosing her cool with the arrival of the wolves and not noticing one lunging for the coati beside her. Enzio and Luca hadn't been any better, only starting to move when she'd gone down.

He'd liked the big guy. Towering as he was he had a gentleness that made it hard to be intimidated. You could see it when he handled his beasts. He ensured that the fox got fed just a bit extra or would spend an hour just brushing her fur from the dirt it naturally accumulated in the tunnels of the dungeon. Nor was it a secret that half the reason he wanted to set up inside the dungeon itself had been because he wanted to get his snake out from the cold. Sometimes, when they were talking, Kaisar would absently reach up and scratch the snake to comfort it and he didn't even seem to realize he was doing so. 

And that was to say nothing to the effort he'd put into helping them. At least seventy five percent of all the digging needed to excavate the tunnels had been handled by him alone while the three of them were at university. He might not have dealt the most damage or killed the most coati, but he sill helped in combat as best as he could. An off-tank with solid utility that let Luca focus on his job while trusting his sister and friend wouldn't be left alone.

Kaisar had been good to the animals, good to the party, a hard worker, and had saved their lives more than once. It was hard to picture Martian as the sort of man who would betray them like that, even in fear. Luca remembered that large back, barely lit in the tunnel, damaged leg and hands sinking into the ceiling of the tunnel. He'd admired the older man even as he'd left him to guard their rear. Even if it was only temporary, Luca well knew how terrifying monsters could get. More so now than ever before. 

That feeling, that admiration, was hard to let go.

"Let's say he did run," Luca pointed out. "How? His leg was injured, remember? You think he could outrun those monsters?"

Enzio didn't have an answer for that, and Belen asked another relevant question.

"Let's say he did manage to get away and come back here for his stuff, what then? He just.. left? Left after all his hard work clearing this dungeon? When its perfect for his leveling? That doesn't make any sense."

"Then what? What else could have happened, Bel? Because he sure as hell ain't here and neither is his stuff."

"My money is still here," Luca said, identifying the small pouch he kept in the boot of his bag. It wasn't a lot of money, but it wouldn't have been hard to find if the beast-kin had looked. "Is yours?" They looked and their own coins were untouched, though Belen did have to half dig hers out of the dirt. "So he didn't rob us."

"What about the dungeon?" Enzio suggested. "Maybe he sold its location?"

"Then how did we get here first?" Luca asked in return. "It's not like contacting a guild is hard."

"Maybe he wasn't able to before he logged back in? They'd be on their way now." Enzio was grasping at straws and they all knew it.

"Maybe he wasn't logged out at all," Belen suggested, looking at her dagger in contemplation.

"How did he survive then?" Luca asked again.

"No, I mean what if he died but wasn't logged out by the system." Both Luca and Enzio gave the woman shared looks of befuddlement. "Well, what if he was using both filters? If he was on the Toon setting then everything would be less 'real' right? If the game didn't think it would cause him health issues, it would have let him stay. If he didn't log out after he died, then he only needed six hours to come back to life instead of thirty like us. He comes back here, thinking he'll find us, but we don't show up."

Luca wouldn't have blamed Kaisar if he did use both filters. He'd almost put the second one on himself while sorting through the... pile outside. The smell alone had been enough to convince him to never go for the 'realistic' setting instead of the 'animated' one he used.

"...What Sanctuary was he synced to, anyway?" Enzio asked and it was a fair question.

"He said he was heading to the Bone Wall so he was probably coming from the north so... Cheustille? That's the nearest one."

"I think it's a little closer than Yvron. And he's on a retirement cycle," Luca suggested. "If he stayed in game this entire time, that's what? Four, five days he could have been waiting here?"

"Then where is he?"

That was the million Real question, wasn't it? Where was the Martian? Had he fled, leaving them to die? Or were they thinking the worst of a man who'd done his best by them, even sacrificing his life to give them more time, fruitless as it might have been? Luca didn't know, and that sat with him. It settled in the corner of his chest with the realization they couldn't call the other Player because not a single one of them asked for his contact information.

In a way, the Guardian hoped the fox beast-kin had betrayed them in some way. It would make him feel better. Yet the more he thought on it, the more he realized that the Martian had been nothing but helpful, kind, and tolerant of their suspicion. That made him feel worse, because he realized there was a very real possibility that the man wasn't there because of the way they'd treated them.

"We can't do anything about this now," Belen eventually sighed. "If he shows up, we'll talk. And we'll know if he sold the dungeon's location soon enough. For now, lets clean up and take stock. We'll need to go to town for some stuff, but I would rather do it all in one trip so we can get back to the dungeon. We might be on a limited time window."

"Got it."

"I think I can get my spearhead on one of the shovels," Enzio muttered, eyeing the tools they'd carved with Sculpt to help removing dirt from the dungeon. 

One had been chewed on, and another was snapped in half, but the third was undamaged. It was another thing Kaisar had done for them, Luca thought as he eyed the Sculpted wood. He didn't say anything though, and just set to the grizzly work of clearing out their resting place.

It took four days before they were ready to explore the dungeon once more, though slightly under-equipped due to lack of funds. Neither Kaisar nor a guild showed up in that time and it didn't take them long to find where he had collapsed the tunnel. The large hole proved it hadn't been particularly effective as far as blockades went, but there was no doubt that the man had at least done as he promised in that regard. 

Beyond that? They never saw nor heard of the gentle Martian again.

Editor Note: From Luca, inserted upon his request. 

We didn't stay in the area for long, only surviving another week before being killed once more by the native coati. The expanded tunnels of the dungeon, thanks to the wolves, made traversal easier but nothing could save us from the dungeon spirit. We were targeted, focused on now that it knew we were there. We died quickly to the onslaught. 

We tried again, barely lasting a day before we were swarmed by two dozen of the coati. Giving up our leveling area, we sold its location to the Derm guild, making a tidy sum. Enough to outfit ourselves with better equipment than we had lost. Even had coin to spare. We continue to play God's Nature to this day. We won some, and lost plenty. We killed and died in turn. Made some great friends and more than one bitter enemy. We've laughed a lot and cried once or twice, yet on the whole it's been fun.

The Martian beast-kin? We didn't forget, but he was just a little story we'd talk about sometimes. Our lives did not revolve around him and had barely known him for a month. Sometimes we'd bring him up, but only in passing. We'd wonder what ever happened to him and his pets. An unanswered question, that's all Kaisar was to us. An anecdote. 

So you can imagine how shocked we were to see our faces in a vid. A vid about Kaiser.

I've watched the entire show. Of course I have. For all it is surreal to see how things went, having met him, Jorry, and Cuholy so early in their story, one thing sticks out to me. Kaiser... the world he saw, that he sees, is completely different than what I see. What I saw. The facts are there. They line up, but something is... off. Not wrong, but not right either. It might just be my memory playing tricks, and the footage supports him not me, but I can't help but feel some things don't line up just right.

Since I can't give specifics, I'll just give my impression. To us, he was kind. He was helpful. He was open and honest. Kaiser might have been a Beast but Kaisar, as we knew him, was a good man. A good man I remember thinking, more than once, looked a little lost. Sad. 

Empty, maybe.

I think that is why we never connected the dots. The man we'd known for a month was so different from the Beast we heard about that connecting the two was impossible. 

After all, the gentle Martian could not be that monster.

******

From: The Pit, Part 2: Warnings

"You need to imagine it." Gaven spread his arms wide, as if to encompass the sky and the land within his reach. "All this, everything that you can see here, all ours."

"Truly, a bounty of riches, this dirt is." Awns drawled sarcastically.

As if to punctuate the mage's point, to their left a tumbleweed bounced along, blown by the wind over the rough terrain. They weren't in the most inhospitable regions, not even close, but they were closer to the Crags than not. In the throws of winter the land was dry and dead, a grey sheen of dust covering the entire area, drowning out any color the hardy vegetation might have brought. 

Their mounts cared little, being hardy creatures their six legs had carried them over much rougher terrain than this small stretch of road between the nearby town and their destination.

"Okay, this part isn't that impressive," Gaven admitted with a light laugh. "But you cannot deny how much Banukeita will prosper with an entire March under our control."

"The technical term is Patrinal."

"Patrinox or Marquis, it doesn't matter," Gaven waived off his vice guild leader's pedantry. "What does matter is that it will be ours."

"Yet is the cost worth it," Awns argued, pulling up closer to the guild leader. "We are investing enormously. Manpower. Materials. And time. All for a piece of land Leidon never owned and would have sold away for the right price. Land, need I remind you, that puts us between Leidon, Calderine, and the Bank's new city. Our reward is more work, to act as their shield."

"I know that," Gaven sighed, ignoring the twitch at being reminded of how close they were to the Bank's 'city.' "I knew that when I accepted this quest. But you do not understand, Awns. This land, this Patrinal, it is just the beginning. For everything."

Awns continued to look doubtful so Gaven decided now was the time to lay out his true plans. Or at least the start of them. They were far from the halls of power and those that resided there in and could see for kilometers around. They would not be overheard.

"Let's ignore the material reward for now. Ignore that this land might be barren now, but trade is only growing and as the Patrinox I'd be able to tax it all."

"You? You'd leave me to do the actual tax work. Again."

"Ignore all that," Gaven continued with a smile, not denying the accusation. "Ignore the money. Only fools focus on money. Think bigger. What does being a Patrinal get us?""A vote on the council," Awns answered easily. Gaven was unsurprised. His lover had probably realized that before he did. "Yet it is a single vote. One of hundreds."

"But it is a vote. A Player vote. The only Player vote. Ever. It gives us a say, sure, but more importantly it gives us weight. Weight with other Players. Weight with the Natives who want to curry favor with Players. And that gets us more votes. More and more, until Banukeita has more say than any other guild in all of God's Nature."

"Natives are not dumb, Gav," Awns cautioned. "You might see that, but so do they. They will not allow Players to get to that point."

"That's what you are missing," Gaven snapped his fingers, mouth spread in a predatory smile. "That's what they're all missing. You do not understand how big God's Nature is going to get. How many Players will come as word spreads and we iron out the kinks. Kinks like a fast travel system?" Gaven shot Awns a knowing looking.

"Considering most who start God's Nature don't keep playing due to hardship? Hundreds of thousands," Awns admitted. 

"Try millions. Hundreds of millions. And where will they go? The ambitious will go to the frontiers. But the majority? Those who join after we make God's Nature easy? They will stick to settled space. It is safer. Well known. Optimized. Convenient. And Leidon, the first starting location, with its solid infrastructure and safe lands, will be their favorite destination. They will be looking for places to level and grind. For adventures that aren't too dangerous. Where they can have fun, do a bit of combat and crafting and feel good about themselves. And we will make that place. A haven for Players. Players that will outnumber Natives by at least two to one. Players with a structured growth path that outpaces everything this world has ever known. I would love to see Leidon try to control us when we are our own superpower."

Awns was quite for the rest of the ride and Gaven did not disturb him, letting him mull over the scope of the plan. He was realistic to know that while he provided the ideas and direction for the guild, it was Awns who would be the one responsible for most of the day to day work that would see them succeed. It was the mage's focus on practicality and process that would see the creation of the Player paradise Gaven envisioned. 

One that would put the Banukeita Guild at the top of this world.

The silence lasted until they reached their destination.

"This is not a valuable use of our time," Awns called out as he slid out of the saddle of his bowren, Urak. He was gentle with the bovine-like creature, even feeding it some of the berries he carried in a pouch along the saddle. "We have already spent considerable time on supplying and gathering for this expedition. A pointless digression like this eats into our resources."

"You say that now," Gaven shot his lover a grin as he slid off his own beast of burden. He was careful not to hurt it, heeding their Beast Master's warning about he limits of his skills. "But if this pans out you will be singing a different tune."

There was an unspoken agreement not to bring up the plans they had discussed before.

The pair had left their troupe a few days behind to ride ahead and to the south of their planned route for this little excursion. They were still technically within Leidonian territory, but on the absolute fringes. A nearby village, barely large enough to hold a Sanctuary, had been discovered in the westward expansion Players had led and barely integrated into Leidon's structure. They were wary of outsiders, especially ones astride monsters and bearing weapons, but they had at least pointed the way toward Gaven's target when asked.

The building stood alone upon a dusty hill, not a shrub to be seen for leagues. In fact, from Gaven's position, he could look around and see not only the small town they'd passed through, but also well into the distance. So much so that Gaven's enhanced senses could faintly make out the dust kicked up by their guild mates, the hired mercenaries, and the baggage train that followed them. A great procession of thousands of people, all bent to his purpose.

"It is precisely because there will be no change whether this pans our or not that I caution against it."

"You are the one who says I should learn more. So," Gaven gestured up the hill to its summit and the stone house upon it. "This is me. Learning."

"Learning in the manner of Croesus of Lydia, perhaps."

"I have no idea who that is," Gaven admitted as they began their ascent. They did not bother keeping their voices down. They would have been heard coming from much farther away.

"Lydia was an ancient kingdom in Asia Minor," Awns began to lecture and Gaven let him, scanning the area. "Very wealthy, it is the first confirmed case of metal coinage we have. Croesus was its king, so wealthy that the term 'rich as Croesus' is an idiom still used in certain parts of the world today."

"What happened to him?"

The house was carved in the Leidon style, even Gaven could tell, with its columns, triangular summit, and long porches half covered and half exposed to the winter sun. It was not large, despite there being clear room for expansion, and was a single story with two rooms, maybe three. The windows were interesting in the fact that they had shutters that were designed to be opened and closed from the tops and not the sides. That was not commonly seen in Leidon houses and were almost exclusive to Player created homes.

"The story, apocryphal as it is, goes that on the eave of an important war Croesus went to the Oracle at Delphi, asking for whether he should continue. The Oracle replied that if he did so he would 'destroy a great empire.' Believing this to be that of his foes, he fought. He lost, and Lydia was destroyed by Cyrus the Great and the Persian Empire."

"So..." Gaven drawled, the smile on his face taking possible bite out of his words. "Prophesies are self fulfilling and you shouldn't read into them?"

"No," Awns sighed. "Prophecy is inherently pointless. If something is predicted, it will happen or it will not, just as it would have before the prediction was uttered. Knowing about it will simply have you looking for it. Humans are creatures that assign patterns and meaning where they do not exist."

"Gotcha," Gaven smiled and raised his hand, knocking on the stone door. "Good thing we're not here for a prophecy."

The girl who opened the door was young, possibly only in her first or second century, pretty, and had the wide eyed look of someone who was simultaneously nervous and admiring. Gaven's Knowledge, much lesser than his vice guild leader's hundreds in the stat, still gave him an explanation.

#

- Earrings in the upper left year. Likely a Player.

- Recognizes Gaven Keita and Awns Ki Geb.

- Likely followed same rumors of an Oracle.

- Likely has a prophecy Nature.

#

"Pardon us, we are looking for Dermine?" Gaven kept his smile gentle and warm. "We were told this is where they live?"

"Sorry, Teacher is out for-" The woman began, but was cut off.

"Let 'em in girl." The barking order came in from deeper in the house, wizened and reedy. "Some men can get the run around. This ain't one of them."

Gaven smiled as they were led toward the far room, a tight place with barely enough space for the pair of men to stand shoulder to shoulder as they faced a figure in a chair, half hidden by shadows owing to the lack of windows or other light sources. They were bundled in heavy blue clothe, so much that not an inch of skin was showing, and their voice was androgynous enough that their gender could not be identified either.

"Get," Dermine barked at the girl once they'd been shown in and she complied, closing the door behind her. They were left in total darkness and it was only thanks to their enchanted bracelets that let them see in the dark that prevented them from running into objects. Faint details such as expression or colour were lost however.

"You were expecting us," Gaven remarked pleasantly.

"I'd be a piss poor Prophet if I didn't expect you, wouldn't I."

"So you are a Prophet?" Awns asked, academic curiosity overcoming his distaste. "As in, it is your Job?"

"... Yes."

"Fascinating. If you do not mind me asking, is it tied to a deity? Or self actualized? Has it proven accurate in the past and to what degree? Have Players changed things?"

"... No god. Don't know. It's accurate to the degree it tells me. They've lowered odds but not disproved predictions."

"So it is probability based." Awns leaned back and Gaven could tell, even in the darkness, that he was satisfied. "It is tied with the Overmind, in all likelihood."

"If you know us, you know why we're here," the guild master of the Banukeita took the opportunity to bring them to the topic at hand. "What will it cost us?"

"You can't offer anything of worth to me boy," Dermine snorted. "No, you'll take Euphon with you, leave her in Calderine, and that will be payment enough."

"Euphon? The girl?" Gaven asked, interested. "She's a Player right."

"A foolish one, but aye, a Player. One that cannot stay here. You bring her to Calderine before you head north, and don't tell anyone about her or me. Do that and I'll answer your questions."

"Deal." Gaven did not need to see to know Awns was giving him a look at agreeing so quickly but the guild leader ignored him.

"Ask."

"Is this quest even possible? Will the centaurs let us pass? Is the capital still there? If it is, is the Fulcrum still there and is the key to the Archs still inside? What opposition will we face?"

"The quest is possible, aye. And the Voxun spoke true, the centaurs will not attack so long as you keep within five and five ylms of Kharak Toul. The capital, Karkos Ulm, still stands at the source, ruined and lesser yet still great. It will devour you if you are not careful. The Fulcrum is destroyed, has been for centuries, but in its ruins you can find what you seek. It is a stone, no larger than your fist, of the darkest black. Monsters will be common, and the Blessed will be just as dangerous."

Gaven let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't been scared of the challenge, not really. He had simply been afraid that he would be chasing an impossible goal and spending the wealth of his guild on a fruitless endeavor.

"The greatest opposition you will face is your own folly." The prophet warned gravely. "Step not beyond Karkos Ulm, for therein lies madness, disease, or the Guillotine City. Step not beyond five and five ylms or into the waters of Kharak Toul. Step not into any Sanctuary between the sacred river and Leidon upon your return. Do this, overcome the dangers, and you shall succeed in your quest."

There was a moment of a silence as the Players waited to see if Dermine would continue, and when he didn't Gaven felt a grin grow. His time hadn't been wasted, they'd received useful advice and warnings he'd heed, and established contact with a potentially useful Player.

He'd rub it in Awns' face when they were alone.

"'Madness, disease, or the Guillotine City,'" the vice leader repeated and Gaven could imagine him running his hand under his chin in thought. "The former is the Mountains of Madness, correct? Then logically, the other two are to the north and west of the capital."

"...They are. Yet the world and it players is not ready for the Guillotine and the one who can mount the disease is not yet here. They will have their time, but we are too early."

"If you know all this, and Prophet is a Job, how was so much was lost during the Woe?"

"... The Job has high requirements. The temperament to not use it for one's own advantage is one. We can not know things, only ask questions. Our answers are never what we wish them to be or what was, only what is or might be. Délaash does not grant this insight easily, nor to only the Blessed."

"Ah, the existence of more than one Prophet invalidates the possibility of complete accuracy."

"...Yes. However..." 

Here Dermine paused, considering their words, and finally spoke a sentence with the tone of finality of someone who would not speak on the subject again.

"...Délaash is neutral in all things. Prophets are not the only ones who can ask the questions."

With that ominous declaration, the hermit ceased speaking and nothing they asked would gain another answer. Instead, they directed the Players to leave the cramped room. Outside, they found the girl waiting, a few packs at her feet and an eager look in her eye.

"So we're leaving?" Euphon asked with a lively smile.

"You do not want to say goodbye to your Teacher?" Gaven asked taken aback by the enthusiasm.

"We did already, before you arrived. Told me I was to go with the next group they talked to. Since Teacher didn't let me chase you off, that means it's you guys."

"Why do you need to get to Calderine?" Awns asked as he retraced their steps outside of the house.

"My cousin is starting there and we're meeting up with my aunt as well," the young woman admitted easily. "I've been cooped up here for waaaaaay too long. I asked her to take me with her and that's the easiest place to meet."

"And your Teacher?" Awns asked. "Where is they going?"

"...How high is your Knowledge?" Euphon asked after a moment, impressed. "Wait! Don't answer that! I shouldn't know. But yeah, there've been more people findin them than before and its only a matter of time before someone troublesome shows up so they're leaving now. Teacher didn't tell me where they were going either, so I don't know."

A shame. Having access to a diviner, even a limited one, would have been incredibly useful for the Banukeita Guild's prospects.

"Understandable," Awns said, hoisting himself up on the back of his bowren. Urak did not react, standing there placidly until it received direction. "Players do not have the same bias against monsters as Blessed but there would still be plenty who would want to kill one with a Job. It would be worth more than a few levels."

Gaven paused, one foot in the stirrups of his own mount as he looked toward his vice guild leader.

"Dermine was a monster?" He would admit that the idea of returning to kill the creature did cross his mind at the revelation. He'd been stuck in the early two hundreds for a long time and finding anything that could increase his level would be incredible. He shook off the temptation. It wasn't worth alienating a potential prophet in the making, not when there would be plenty of opportunity to increase it during this quest. "I thought monsters couldn't get Jobs?"

"They can, though it is really rare, limited to those who live amongst the Blessed for a long time," Awns explained. "As for what type of creature they were, I could not say." 

He sent a questioning look at Euphon who shrugged with a helpless smile. 

"Be that as it may, if the populace learned of monsters with Jobs, particularly one as potent as a Prophet, they're would be calls for another Katarizo. A purge," Anws added at the blank looks he received. "A systematic cleansing of society of the 'dirty.' The last one was some four centuries ago. It is an interesting phenomenon in a society with limited options for permanent punishment and the reason I know monsters could hold Jobs. Do you wish to ride with me or Gaven until we reach the guild?"

"Definitely you," Euphon nodded, slinging her bags behind Gaven's before hopping lightly to sit behind the mage. Then as if realizing her words could be considered insulting, she looked at Gaven. "No offense, but I'll probably have the opportunity to ride with you later so I should take this chance while I have it."

"None taken."

Gaven gave a smug smile at Awns as they started their path back toward their guild and the mage gave put upon look of acknowledgment. They'd gained actionable intel and an in with a Player with a very useful Nature. 

This had been a productive use of their time after all.

******

From: 'The Beast' Season 2 Spoiler Free Live discussion room 004

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>[Moderator] To remind everyone, not only is this a Spoiler Free room, but it is also a Category 2 one. That means no personal insults or overt sexual references. If you want to engage in those, please move to a Category 4 room. Do not make me come back in here. 

PS: Also, please, please have some self preservation. If not for yourself, then for the rest of us.

>Oooooh, they're in troooobleeee~

>I only caught the end of that. WTF was that all about?

>Well, I understand half of it. After all (Chocolate Bunny, Chocolate Bunny, Chocolate Bunny, Chocolate Bunny, Chocolate Bunny, Chocolate Bunny, Chocolate Bunny!!) some people are just horny. The hate? That I don't get at all. I like Cuholy. She's cute.

>A hare.

>She's a hare.

>Don't call her a bunny.

>Yes Jack? This one right here. He said the B word.

>I love how easy it is to tell who's played God's Nature from someone whose just watching the show.

>I'll answer the question, instead of just feeling smug: you should look it up. We can't give the details here, as it is major spoilers. Be careful if you do look into it, it is heavily tied into... everything. If you want a non-spoiler: Jack has a positive reputation in the community. Cuholy is more... controversial. It wouldn't be wrong to call her hated or reviled. The exact reason is a spoiler but if the show keeps going it will be very clear why. (Also, you should really not use the B word. Jack isn't the easiest Beast to attract the attention of but she's the second worst one so it isn't worth the risk.)

>I'll let the story tell me.

>Speaking of, while I appreciate the increase in action this season, I can't help but worry that they're stretching it out. Like, don't get me wrong, I like a slow build up as the next girl but if they're only going to be one season per season then we'll be here for decades.

>That's what season originally meant, back when vids were attached to limited channels. They'd get one 'seasonal' slot and they might not get another. Now-a-days its more along the lines of the number of produced episodes than any actual restrains.

>Thank you, Mr. Obvious. I do agree, though. It doesn't feel as long because of the Pods, but this is years we're talking about. Not all of the shit he got up to will be interesting. I don't care about all this travel, and if I am forced to watch him grind levels I'll blow my brains out. If I wanted that I'd have tones of streams to choose from.

>I trust Helen. She hasn't gone wrong yet.

>I guess. I'll hold my judgement till we get to the- Whoops. Almost attracted mod mommy again.

>You caught yourself, so it's fine. I know what you were going to say anyway. Yeah, I'm only sticking around till then. I want to see how he did it. I'll make my judgement after that.

>Well, I am having fun. I really like how Kaiser is surrounding himself with creatures he embodies. Like, the snake comparisons are obvious but I think 'Cunning like a Fox' also fits. It tickles my funny bone.

>He is... hungry like a wolf.

>One could also say he is... Mad as a March Hare Puts on sunglasses

>What are sunglasses?

>Ancient tools used to keep the sun out of peoples eyes so they wouldn't be blinded. You see them sometimes in God's Nature on children in Oro. Sometimes they come back for fashion reasons.

>Wouldn't that get in the way?

>This was before they had nanocells so they couldn't filter light automatically.

>Also they did not have Hoods so there was nothing to get in the way of.

>This digression has made me profoundly sad. I am going back to my hole with my retro crime vids.

>Awwww, don't be like that. I thought it was clever.

>I don't need no pity.

>That's a double negative, meaning you do.

>No, seriously, it was clever. You don't get a lot of old Albionian sayings these days.

>While you rebuild a fragile ego with niche taste, can someone settle something between me and my wife?

>Yes, she has seen bigger.

>Yes, the dress makes her look fat.

>No, chartreuse and pear are not the same colour.

>Hardy har har. Though the last one is pretty close to the question. So answer me this: what is Kaiser's ethnicity.

>WTS

>Oh damn, one of those.

>Mod mommy? Yes, this one here.

>I'm serious. I don't mean in like a judgement sort of way, I don't give a shit there, I mean in the literal sense; what is his coloration? Because he looks caucasian to me. Tan, sure, but he spends a massive amount of time in the sun. But my wife claims he's indian descent.

>That's crazy.

>Martian. He's said it a bunch of times.

>You both need to get your eyes checked. You're both wrong.

>Martian.

>He's Martian, but it's clear his ancestors had come from a primarily black lineage. He's paler than them as most martians become without regular exposure to earth-equivalent sunlight.

>Why is everyone so wrong? He's clearly a pacific islander.

>His name is Mediterranean and he is too.

>I think he looks central eurasian to me.

>Is everyone crazy?

>WAIT! Are we even seeing the same thing?

>Before we descend into some sort of pre-Collapse pseudo-scientific racially motivated mob that will certainly attract the mods, let's change the question. What color is his hair?

>Hare*

>No, I meant hair. Should be real obvious since he's had fur for most of the season. (Before he got the fur colour changing trait)

>Black.

>Brown.

>Black.

>Dark Brown.

>Muddy Brown.

>Blue dark enough to be mistaken for black.

>Really dark blond. You can see it at his roots.

>I... think we need to expand this. Hang on, I'm setting up a poll for some of these. I'll add other things like eyes, nose, height, and so on. See if you can get others to answer.

>Why?

>Because the inconsistency it too consistent. And this is Kaiser.

>Right, this is Kaiser.

>Fuck. It's Kaiser.

...

...

...

>With over fifteen thousand responders we have come to the unanimous conclusion that Drumroll: Kaiser is two and a half meters tall. 

>And... that's it. Hair colour, eye colour, skin colour, facial features, skin markings, lip size and shape, and even eye brow shape are all over the place.

>*Two and a half meters is eight feet and two inches for our metrically impaired.

>So all we can agree on is: 1. He's tall. 2. He's dark skinned (which can be ethnicity or environmentally caused) and 3. He has dark hair and eyes.

>And (without spoilers) we know he can change those three 'facts' with traits.

>...Fuck.

>How is this possible?

>It's Kaiser.

>The fuck does that mean!

>It means that the Beast does not like being hunted.

>That shit only makes sense if this were God's Nature! It isn't. This is footage from his pod. We saw things from his eyes. Are you telling me he doesn't even know his own features?

>Helen could have edited it? Like what she does with other Players with their privacy filters? She put details in that are 'close enough' so we aren't seeing a bunch of black outlines.

>None of her edits have been inconsistent. While they might not be their 'real' features, they are still the same ones throughout.

>I don't think an Omen could do this. Not even a Demi-God. It's too thorough. Too universal.

>'It shouldn't be possible' is what you mean. Nobody has ever been able to 'change' footage recorded on a pod, just impose images over. Even then we can tell. There's just too many details, too many phenomena for any human mind and most AIs to even attempt.

>'Human mind' Eh?

>No.

>Hear me out.

>No.

>I agree. No. Kaiser's a great Player, and I respect the hell out of him being the first Ascended, but he's just a Player. All Ascended are. We know this. We see through his eyes. That is a human person. No supernatural abilities.

>I agree. There is no way for anyone, even Kaiser, to put a perception filter over everyone watching so they not only see the wrong thing, but also different things for different people. There is magic in God's Nature, but this is reality. And reality has rules.

>Sure. All correct. I agree wholeheartedly. It is impossible for Kaiser to do something like this. It should be impossible. But...

>But?

>But let me ask you this: If Kaiser can't affect the real world... why are we still calling him Kaiser?

>...Fuck.

******

Oh Gods, forgive me my only sin.

-Prayer of unknown origin.

******

"You lied."

It took an hour for Cuholy to realize what happened. Maybe less. That did not surprise Neron. She had a quick mind and an eye for details. What did surprise him was that she confronted him while the wolves watched and Jack sat upon his head. The fox hadn't made it any secret that the larger canines, and her killer, terrified her. 

Yet here she was, standing in front of him, meeting his eyes. She was trembling, her body shaking like a leaf as she drew attention to herself. She held firm as all eyes in the blood soaked camp turned toward her.

"I have told you exactly one lie in our entire time together," Neron said, bookmarking his reading and closing his system. He took the chance to reposition his injured leg to a more comfortable position. The improvised splint had been digging into his calf. "What was it?"

His response seemed to catch the fox flatfooted, as if she hadn't expected him to admit it. Or to be challenged on it.

"Um," Cuholy hesitated for a moment, looking around the clearing, and then refocused on him. "In the cave. With the coati. You said if I didn't help then I would die. But I wouldn't have. I- We could have run away. We did run away."

Neron tilted his head at the unexpected answer and gave it some thought. From a certain perspective, she was correct. He'd been insistent on getting her to fight in order to test if she was a viable long term companion. To do so, he'd artificially created a false dichotomy to insist she either fight or remain still. He'd pressured her so she wouldn't realize there were other options between the two he presented, such as him fleeing with her and Jorry. Yet she was also wrong.

"I had no intention of running away at that point and planned to keep fighting, even to the death. If we did die, and you ran, the coati would have hunted you down and killed you. The last Sanctuary I attuned with is days away and I was unlikely to be able to reach you before they did. So I did not lie then."

"Oh," Cuholy's tails drooped as she realized he had a point and her courage to confront him was misplaced. "So you didn't make me fight. What was the lie then?"

"That everything would be all right. I knew you were dying and could not save you, yet I lied to make you feel better. Baring that moment, I have never deliberately told you a falsehood."

"Oh," the grey fox repeated, her ears perking up and tail starting to wag. "That's okay then. I mean, I didn't want to die but I don't blame you for that." The look the fox shot Jack, who continued to nibble on the underbrush without a care, made it very clear who she did blame.

Neron could have left the interaction at that, accepted the increase of his estimate in her eyes as well as those listening, and moved on. He would have done so were this twelve hours ago. Yet two things had changed in that time. The first was his desire to keep the fox with him long term. The second was her evolution.

"I planned on letting you die. In fact, I set it up so that you would. That was not through a lie, but through deceit. They are different. One is a false statement, the other is an action taken to manipulate through falsehood. I try and avoid lying. I am always deceiving. You were simply the most recent one."

His tone did not change, maintaining the same cadence of a simple explanation without any sense of guilt. The wagging tail froze. The wolves, who'd gone back to resting perked up in interest again, and he could feel Jack moving to look down at him from her perch. The only one who wasn't surprised was Jorry, who continued to lay around the burning lindros bark with a bulge in his stomach from a piece of a coati Neron had cut off for him. The snake still remained vigilant, however, and surveyed the other beasts to gauge their reaction.

"The coati would have hunted you down because I let slip that you had a Self. Not only them, but I did it in such a way that the other Players would notice too in the hope that they would kill you. I did it on purpose. It had been my plan since I discovered them and this dungeon."

As he spoke Cuholy had started to retreat, eyes wide in fear as she readied herself for him to attack.

"In fact, at various points tonight, I had plans for everyone in this clearing to die. Myself included."

Now everyone was looking at him in caution, horror, fear, or betrayal. Jorry's face wasn't expressive but he'd been around the snake long enough to recognized a resigned sort of pride in the way he held himself. Jack... was a blank slate, only visible at the top of his field of view. The rest, the canines, were easy to read.

"You could not slay us, Beastongue," the Mother grumbled as she rose from where she'd been resting beside the Father. She gave a big stretch, padded over a bit and lay down again. That it placed her between Neron and the pups did not go unrecognized for all the nonchalance of the action. The younger members had been rough housing, kept separate from Neron and his group, but hadn't let their presence stop their play until Cuholy had spoken.

"No, but you would have died because of me," Neron continued. "More specifically, because of Jack." Eyes turned toward the jackrabbit but her gaze remained on Neron. "She has a skill to track her killers. She used it to follow Cuholy across half the country. Had you chosen to kill us instead of talking, we could have followed you and hunted you now matter where you went."

"You didn't know."

"No," Neron nodded at the hare. "I did not know about that skill until we talked. Initially I planned on killing you and your skill saved you. If I had killed you, I would still have come to this side of the river but instead I would have set others to hunt you down."

Neron unwrapped the Lees Lens from his arm and held the bandage looking item in front of the group. He attached the two ends together and formed a hoop, through which he tossed Cuholy's corpse through. It disappeared into thin air.

"This item is so valuable that if I were to die and be unable to retrieve it my sisters, two of the most powerful Players, would send a kill team to get it back. They would silence anyone who knew about it, either through payment or, in your cases, killing you so much that your Selves will never return."

The Father, the Mother, and the dark brown puppy all pulled back their lips to reveal sharp fangs. The other wolves, those without fully developed Selves, imitated them. Yet nobody lunged.

Neron did not flinch. This little admission was to accomplish a few goals and one of which was to not so subtly threaten the large monsters to dissuade them from betraying him later. If they wanted to leave, he wouldn't stop them but if they were going to stay they needed to know that their size, strength, and numbers would not protect them from him if they decided to try and kill him in his sleep.

"You would not have caught me." Jack, in contrast, did not take any action and just pointed out the issue with his plan for her. It was Jorry who answered the unasked question.

"You came to him," the snake pointed out. Neron gave the serpent a smile and the black rat snake continued. "Because you did not fear him, you answered when he spoke. If you did fear him you would not have attacked Cuholy right beside him. That was all he needed to know."

"You are strong, but once I get my hands on you, you are doomed." Neron wondered if the hare was reconsidering her decision to land in the palm of his hand. If she hadn't had her skill, he would have slain her there. "And if you did not answer, Jorry and I could have hunted you down. Your traces were there. You might have escaped for a few days, but you would tire much sooner than I. Then it would be over."

Jack was silent once more, but Cuholy found her voice.

"You cannot be a alright with this," the fox asked Jorry. "He was going to get you killed! He just said so!"

The snake could not sneer without lips but the disdain in his voice made it clear what he thought of the fox.

"Unlike you, fox, I am no coward. I know I will return as myself with his skill. And even without it, if my death is required for my goals, I will die as many times as it takes to become a dragon."

"You won't be a dragon if you keep dying!"

"You are wrong. I will never be a dragon if I let my fear of death prevent me from seizing the sky."

"How do you define a dragon, little snake?" The Father's rumbling voice cut through the argument. "One would think a dragon should not die."

"Everything dies," Jorry denied. "A dragon, a true one, is a being so large that their every move reshapes the world. One whose death becomes a story that lasts eons because their life was that important. When a true dragon dies, their blood becomes the rivers and seas, their flesh the lands and mountains, and their spirits dominate the sky. Everyone who lives in the world built upon a true dragon's bones know that they live only because the dragon is dead."

"You are living to die, little snake," the Mother warned. "That is not the way of things."

"No. I am dying to live."

With that, Neron decided that he'd allowed the digression to proceed far enough and addressed Cuholy once more.

"Do you know why I have told you all this?"

"What? No. No, I don't. There is no point in telling me you set me up to die after you promised to protect me!" There was genuine hurt in the fox's voice.

"Think about it," Neron pressed. Then, after a beat of silence, added more. "If I promised to protect you, and I was not lying, then why would letting you die accomplish that."

Cuholy was silent and the camp watched her.

"Because me dying in the short run would protect me in the long run."

"Correct," Neron smile was warm and encouraging. It was the same one he'd given when Jorry had answered Jack. "Next question. Why is that so?"

"Because it would prove your skill worked like promised and that I wouldn't have to be afraid of loosing my Self." There was no hesitation in delivering this answer.

"Partially, but that is not all." When Cuholy did not continue, Neron added another prompt. "I have told you the answer before. You just need to remember it."

Neron could almost see the fox going through their numerous conversations to find what he was talking about. Eventually, she came to an answer. It hadn't been the one Neron was thinking of, but it was perhaps a better one.

"The lie you told was that you would protect me. The lie you told yourself was that I needed to fight in order to be protect myself. The intention was to fulfill your promise in a way that ensured I wouldn't be a burden. The consequence is that I needed to fight and die, even though I did not want to, because if I don't do it now, under controlled circumstances, it will happen outside of your control and you will not be able to determine how I would react."

"You are right, but I would point out that the consequence is that you accomplished my goal without actually dying. You did as soon as you killed that coati and, from that point, your death was no longer necessary. As soon as that happened, I knew that when you did die, and you would, you would still fight on. My control was no longer needed. I was not lying when I said you did phenomenal tonight. Better than my wildest hopes."

If foxes could flush, Cuholy would be bright red instead her monochrome self. As it were, her tail resumed its wagging.

"So, knowing all this, let us return to my earlier question: Why have I revealed all this to you? Why have I risked alienating not only you, but the others?"

"...Because you trust me. And you need me to trust you."

"And because I want you. More than anyone else here, you are the most dangerous and the most useful to me at the moment."

"What!?" Cuholy flinched, looking around the clearing at the creatures bigger, more dangerous, and more ruthless than her. "No I'm not!"

"You are." It cost Jorry to say those words, Neron could tell, but for all the snake's bluster he wasn't the type to deny the truth in front of him. "For the moment, at least. Your evolution is too useful and dangerous." Then, the facts spoken, the would-be dragon gave a haughty huff and continued in his usual manner. "That does not mean this will always be the case. It will not be long until not even your illusions will protect you from me. And don't think this means you can use this to be dead weight! If you don't contribute we'll copy your skill and leave you behind."

Neron felt an unexpected burst of pride at the snake's words. Not the threat, but the fact Jorry had seen and understood the same thing he did.

"Do you remember the storm?" Neron asked rhetorically but Cuholy nodded. "Do you know what almost killed us?"

"Goblins."

"It was the fall," Neron corrected. "I could not see the ground, stepped wrong, and fell into riverbed not long for flooding and almost could not escape. The fall hurt both of you and I was lucky to not break anything myself but the water in my boots contributed to my hypothermia. If I fell one more time, we would have died. And now, you have the ability to make me fall as much as you want. More importantly, you have the ability to do so to any enemies we encounter."

"I can't do that!" Cuholy denied and, as if to prove it, an illusion of herself appeared beside her. It was blurry, a bit translucent, and didn't move quite right. It also had no scent/taste to Neron. "See! This all I can do."

"All you can do now," Neron corrected. "You only evolved a few hours ago. How skilled will you be in a few weeks or months? And you do not need to be super accurate to kill. You just need to make it look like the cliff is a little further from where someone thinks, that there is no snake in my sleeve, or that someone is dead that is not. Fingers with invisible claws. Eight wolves instead of nine. Your illusions are the most dangerous, and useful, thing I can imagine in our travels. I can imagine a lot."

"But you can copy me. You can use them too."

"I can not right now." Even with the multiplier that came with his new Step, his Spirit was not high enough to gain that trait. "And even once I can, having someone to use it instead of needing to concentrate on myself is more useful."

By now, even the wolves seemed to be looking at Cuholy in a new light. Where before she had just been physical proof of their salvation, now they regarded her with a touch of wariness. It was clear the fox did not know how to handle that so Neron continued.

"You know how I fight. So you needed to know how I would fight using you. Manipulation. Diversions. Traps. And you are smart. Once you realized how I plan, you would have discovered how I manipulated you as well. It was to help you, but there is no denying I am the type of person who will use what he can to achieve the best result, including people. Jorry knows this and accepts it. If I want you to stay with me in the long term, and I do, I need you to do the same. Can you?"

"...What about them?" Cuholy deflected, nodding toward the wolves, who continued to watch, and Jack, who'd returned to her foraging. "Aren't you worried they won't trust you?"

"While Jack has some traits I find desirable, the only one the pack have that I could not gain from you is the geomancy, and your illusions are worth more to me."

There was some uneasy shuffling from the wolves and the dark brown youth asked before the Mother or Father could stop him.

"How did you know?" The older wolves shot the puppy a look of warning and the Mother nipped at him but Neron answered easily.

"I have spent weeks digging through that dungeon in order to fit. None of the tunnels except what we carved should fit any of you, yet you managed to hunt all the coati in one night? Adding that to the tunnel you dug to reach us, which you shouldn't have been able to tell where we were from the outside? With how quickly you removed the cave-in I created on top of all that, and the only explanation was some sort of control over the earth." Neron laid out the facts as plain as day, because to him it was.

"See! They're much more useful. They can fight and hunt and I don't want to get hurt. They're giant scary wolves and I'm just a cowardly fox."

"So are they."

The retort had come out of his mouth in an instant and it took the confused look on everyone else's face to make Neron realize that they would have no way of knowing what he was talking about.

"Okay," he sighed. "To simplify a very complex subject, you need to know that if you are considered a fox, so are they." Neron was treated to the sight of ten canine heads tilting in confusion as one and he sighed again. "Your species, a Grey Fox, is a canine like them. You share a common ancestor, along with all canines but at some time in the past your species diverged. Following with me so far?"

"We understand your words, but not your intent Beastongue."

"My point is that foxes, true foxes, Vulpes Vulpes, split much later than her ancestors, the Urocyon. True foxes, the most 'fox-like', are more closely related to all wolves, which split from the Vulpes ancestors much more recently than that of the Urocyon. She has round eyes instead of slits, can climb trees due to different claw configuration, and has a different skull structure. There are others as well, but the point is that if Cuholy is a fox, so are you all and so are all canines." 

There was an academic faction, a large one at that, that argued the common ancestor of canines were more fox-like than dog-like. This was due to how common 'fox' traits were in other genus of canines. If this were true then all dogs would be foxes but not all foxes would be dogs. The opposition argued for the case of convergent evolution, which was entirely possible, instead of upending the entire understanding the Canidae Family. Unless the actual point of divergence was discovered in a miraculous archeological find, the debate would go unresolved. Not that it mattered too much to Neron, who'd only learned about it while investigating Cuholy's species for traits to assimilate, except what he could use to further his point. 

Which they'd digressed from again.

"I'm not even a fox." The 'revelation,' which Neron did not consider important in the slightest, appeared to have shaken Cuholy somewhat as she muttered to herself. "That's another lie. Another failure."

"Tell me something, Cuhồly nhị vĩ xiān," Neron spoke seriously. Hearing her 'true' name, with the proper accent and pronunciation, stole the fake fox's attention back to him. "Does it matter that is a lie? That the name of your speicies is untrue? That not all foxes are 'true foxes?'"

"Of course it matters!"

"To you." Neron was blunt and straightforward, no longer allowing any more diversions. "It matters to you. It does not matter to me. It does not matter to the world. The world does not care for our nomenclature or our words. They are sounds we emit that we lie to ourselves to believe they have meaning. Words only mean what we think they do. Names only mean what we want them to. My words could have killed you, yet to someone who did not speak my language they would have meant less than nothing. Our lives are filled with lies we choose to believe because that is the only way to live."

Neron looked around the clearing, meeting the eyes of every creature there. 

"These wolves, these foxes, were also running away from those that would kill them, making them also 'cowardly.' But I told you before, running is not a problem. Not in my world. My lie. I ran tonight and it was the right thing. I know so, even though I know that knowledge is a lie. Fear, cowardice, self-preservation, whatever you want to call it. It is inherently a beneficial trait, not one to be ashamed of. It will keep you alive longer. The belief that life is better than death is another lie, but one we cling to, so we run. We embrace fear. It lets us recognize when it is time to run. Your problem was not that you ran, it was that you could not recognize when running was the more dangerous option, thus defeating the purpose of your fear."

Neron held out his hand to the little fox.

"I am not asking you to not be scared. I am not asking you not to lie to yourself. All I ask of you is if you can trust that my lies are in our best interest. I ask you to believe that I believe in the lie that I will protect and feed you. Because I do believe it. Because if you can not choose to believe my lies, you should run now."

Shejou had been right. You could not help someone who did not want help. 

Neron needed Cuholy to want his help. To believe that even if he deceived her, it was for her own benefit. Whether that was actually true or not, Neron did not know. He couldn't see the future. But, just as he'd promised Jorry not to lie to him, he would do his best to make it true.

After all, he liked people like Cuholy and Jorry.

The fox that was not a fox did not move for a long minute. Then Neron felt a weight on his lap and realized that his companion had her own lies. One of which was the impression that her illusion of herself was faulty and easily seen through.

Had he spoken to the true Cuholy even once since she returned?

What a little coward he'd picked up.

"I take it this is your answer?" Neron asked with a light chuckle at his earlier thought.

"I did not get a second tail," the evolved fox murmured as she appeared in his lap. She was trying to sound haughty, but it came out as more insecure. "So you will have to pamper the one I have twice as much. And feed me while you do it."

Neron re-angled his injured leg so it no longer bore her weight and then reached into his bag to grab the brush.

The show ended, the other beasts returned to their rest. They'd be leaving with the dawn and they had a long way to go. Neron idly brushed at the fox's fur and let the night settle on his back.

The void within loomed. The disappointment and that nameless dissatisfaction.

At least he had something else to distract himself with now.

******

"It is a terrible Curse. One of the worst you can get." Even without seeing her face, Neron knew Medea was frowning by her tone. "I know Players who've deleted their characters over something similar and even then it wasn't a complete ban on all equipment."

"It is not that it prevents me from using any," Neron pointed out, hopping lightly from one buttressed root to another. His leg ached slightly. There had been no healer who could completely repair the damage in the few towns he'd passed through and most had recommended he kill himself to resurrect whole. Instead he'd paid them to speed up the process, leaving him fully mobile but with a dull ache whenever it received an impact. "Simply that doing so impedes me more than it helps."

"Does it provide a description on what counts as 'equipment?'"

"No, but I have done some testing and it appears mainly limited to my body state or combat ability. Octavia's jacket now makes me more vulnerable to temperature shift and multiplies the force that impacts me yet I had no issue using the Lees Lens to send the corpse to them."

"I wish you had saved that for me," Medea sighed in jealousy. "A corpse caught mid-evolution would be an incredible specimen."

"I have no way of preserving it for you and I am sure Octavia can make something useful out of it."

"That you will not be able to use."

"Possibly. A tool such as a flint and steel is still usable but swinging a branch feels like moving through mud. If she creates something that is supportive in a non traditional sense then I would still be able to use it."

"...If you were aiming to become a high level Player I'd recommend starting over."

"But I am not."

"You're not," Medea conceded. "You will still run into issues though. The Nature system is essentially a process of specialization. Every Step makes you stronger, but only in the way it directs you. These are based on our actions, but at the end of the day they are an external force making the decision for us. We do not get choices."

Neron was not certain he agreed with that claim, but his opposition was from a philosophical standpoint rather than a practical one so he let it slide.

"It is clear how the Curse of The Beast wants me to specialize."

"That it is trying to make you more reliant on your first skill is perfectly common," Medea waived off his point. "What makes it a problem is that your first skill is incredibly generalized. You are entirely reliant on the creatures you recruit, of which you have no way of actually controlling, who can abandon you at any time, and who you can only copy imperfectly. Even if you copied every trait of a creature, you'd only be their equal in form. They would still be better at using the form than you."

"Every form has its ups and downs. Being able to choose traits that are advantageous to any situation is a considerable boon."

Traveling with the wolves had made that abundantly clear. They were faster than Neron. Stronger than Neron. More massive than Neron. Yet despite all that, they traveled at the same pace. Neron move constantly, only stopping for the occasional meal and sleep every two days. He was able to do this day or night as he tried to fully assimilate Cuholy's eyes, yet the pack moved mostly around dawn or dusk. They slept for longer than him, and more frequently and when they did move, they took more frequent breaks.

Wolves were, on average, an inefficient creature when it came to calorie and energy burn. They required more rest and food than other creatures of a similar size. And these were giant wolves. Humans, by contrast, specialized in intelligence and endurance. The ability to sweat, for example, was much more efficient than panting as a form of temperature regulation. As spring kicked in and the weather started to warm, Neron often found himself dismissing his fur when it got too hot during midday travel, yet the wolf pack were forced to rest and sleep in the shade of the forest to not burn excess energy.

"But you cannot choose what traits are available. You only have access to beings with a Self you've recruited and only for traits that do not put too great a strain on your Body, Control, or Spirit. Your first skill is incredibly powerful in its ubiquity and speed of growth, but there is a hard cap on it at any given time."

"I understand," Neron answered, feeling Cuholy tense on his shoulder. The fox started moved from his right to left, brushing the back of his head with her fur, yet visually she hadn't so much as shifted. "My Curse is forcing me to specialize in a lack of specialization. Because of that, I fashion myself into forms to replace any equipment I would need but I will always be an inferior product than something truly specialized. My claws might be sharp, but a knife is sharper."

"You can make your claws sharper by increasing your Body, but you get diminishing returns on top of locking yourself out of other useful traits if you focus only on one stat. If you continue your even split, by the time you reach level two hundred and the Fourth Step, your claws won't even be able to scratch enchanted armor of the same level. And that's the big downside, enchantments. A single piece of good equipment can drastically increase a person's abilities, either by shoring removing their weaknesses or improving their strength."

"I can find and recruit a creature with more optimal claws, but that will depend on circumstances out of my control. Made worse by the fact that monsters are not only hostile to Blessed, but those with desirable traits comparable to high level enchantments would be rare." Neron felt a weight land on his scull and did not need to look up to know Jack had returned from her foraging and assumed her preferred place. She probably had not so much as glanced at Cuholy yet the fox maintained the illusion and concealed her true position. "Or I can try and raise my current companions to gain better traits from what I already have access to, yet there is no set method to do so, thus also is at the whim of circumstances."

"Another factor is how skills get harder to increase the higher their level. You haven't reached the first milestone yet, but once it does you will slow down. You will also slow down as you run out of traits and will have to decide it if you wish to assimilate negative ones just to keep going, which works against the greatest benefit of your skill."

"So you think I should not have accepted the Curse?" There had been no statement on the consequences of rejecting it, and he hadn't been able to find any proof that there was such a thing when he researched the subject.

"In almost every case I recommend accepting. Just because we have not discovered a drawback for rejecting Curses yet does not mean they do not exist. I imagine is will show up in higher Steps. But the reason I'm not recommending you create a new character is the same reason I'd have recommended you not accepted. At least by level two hundred and fifty and Step five there are no impediments to rejecting it but you will not reach that point before you start university and who knows how long it will take beyond that. For you specifically, accepting it might have had no benefit and only demerits."

"Maybe," Neron shrugged philosophically, forcing Cuholy to sink in her claws to remain in position. Her concentration faded for the instant and her illusion disappeared. "Without a weapon, the only loss is the jacket and it still has its uses, even if not as armour."

Out of the corner of his eye, Neron observed the fox look up at the hare in terror. Jack did not shift at all on his head, still munching away at whatever foliage she had picked up. While Cuholy did not relax wholly, she didn't try to move either, simply casting her illusion to give her a second tail.

"Either way, congratulations are in order," Medea said, changing her tone to a more positive one. "Thirty seven isn't a record but it is still impressive to reach your second Step before forty."

"Out of curiosity, what is the record?" 

Neron wasn't particularly excited to finally be 'gimped,' as Players had come to call those Cursed by the second Step. Sure, the effective doubling of his stat's effect was nice but he was still low enough in level, combined with his three way split of stats, that it didn't feel incredibly meaningful. He wasn't suddenly running faster than the wind and uprooting trees. The most it affected his day-to-day activities was the complete lack of burden he felt as he carried around three animals, his pack and bundled cloak. If they'd been heavy there was no way they'd have managed to keep this pace, even with humanity's endurance abilities.

"Confirmed? Eighteen. There's rumors about people who managed it earlier but I haven't been able to verify it. Forty two is the record for Step three, though I imagine the record holder for Step four eclipsed that."

"How so?"

"I have no idea what level Shejou was when she reached her third Step but I've never heard of someone on their fourth Step in their forties."

"She was one of the early Players though."

"Oh, her leveling speed is atrocious. The worst I've ever heard of, but I imagine that is because she does nothing other than train. In fact, I would estimate a third of her levels came from the crossing from Leidon to Calderine. If she were on her third Step before then she was probably in her teens at the latest."

That was... Hmm, Neron could not decide if that was admirable or not. He certainly believed his former lover's ambition and dedication were such, but there was no denying there was a touch of madness in its inefficiency. Other Players who'd started at the same time were not only more advanced in Steps and levels, but had accomplished much more.

Upon reflection, he decided he admired Shejou more than not. She'd avoided being caught up in the need for 'progression' in numbers or power, that illusion of progress, focusing wholly on her own goals. Neron imagined that even if Shejou could become the strongest in the world, the headstrong woman would delete her character if it were not accomplished in manner to satisfy her vanity.

"Fifth Steps are still too rare for us to have a set record," Medea continued. " But I know someone achieved it at one fifty seven. There are only a handful of sixths Steps, so the data is too sparse to make any true conclusions."

"I know third Steps are 'Lemmings' and forth are 'Veterans' but has there been a nickname assigned to the other two yet?"

"Anybody whose at Six isn't talking so there's nothing to go off there. For Step fives I have heard a few thrown around, like-" "Neron." "-Forerunners, Pioneers, or Trailblazers. There are also joking ones like half-N-halves, No-lifers, and Bamboo."

Neron was morbidly curious about the 'bamboo' nickname, as he could intuit the meaning of the rest but the wolf who'd appeared from the forest and now traveled beside him at an easy loping pace called for his attention, even before Cuholy had called him out.

"I will have to ask about those later, but I have to hang up now."

"Sure, I'll be over for lunch."

"Talk to you then."

After saying farewell to his friend, Neron addressed Lurking-Eyes.

"Yes?"

"Beastongue spoke the truth." There was a regretful acknowledgment in the Mother's tone. A respect tinged with grief. "We have reached the barrier."

"How far?" Neron asked instead of addressing the emotions of the wolf. They could wait until they camped for the night. Looking up, he tried to get a glimpse of their goal but all he caught was the barest of white flashes through the thick foliage. Climbing a tree would have shown it clearly, but he felt no need to ruin his first impression.

"Three hills hence. The pack is there."

"Finally," Jorry had roused himself from his nap with the wolf's arrival and he was eager to reach their destination. While he stayed bundled within Neron's jacket in the pack during the cooler nights, he maintained his position around the Player's torso during the day.

"Then let us not keep them waiting." Picking up the pace, Neron was a touch excited as well. He'd never seen anything like this before.

"I would ask a favour, Beastongue."

"A favour?"

"The Fath- Fording-Trails. The barrier... It hurts him. To know our hope was doomed is not an easy thing."

"The only crime in ignorance is that which is chosen willfully. Fording-Trails has nothing to be ashamed of."

"The Father and Mother lead. That is the way of things. We would have led the pack to their doom. That is truth. Our ignorance does not change that."

"What exactly are you asking of me?"

"That you speak as the fox. Not the hare or dragon. Until the pack accepts our quest for Moons'-Cradle was doomed."

"I will speak true. Yet truth need not be venomous." Neron was still picking up on the vernacular the pack prefered, as well as the implications hidden within, but he was pretty sure he'd grasped everything that Lurking-Eyes had intended to convey. He'd also understood what went unsaid.

"Thank you, Beastongue."

"Why do you not ask me to speak as the wolf?"

"You may borrow our tongues. That is your right. You may imitate our ways. That is your skill. But you will not, can not, speak as the wolf. Not until you know the way of things."

With her piece said, the oldest female of the pack of wolves he'd folded into his entourage, bounded off into the forest. She disappeared in a flash, easily outpacing them and leaving Neron to venture forth with only those beasts he carried on his back.

"I like them," Jorry declared.

"I think they're terrifying," Cuholy's voice quivered out quietly. She knew the other canines could hear her still, yet she still spoke in a whisper as if loud noises would offend them. "They're... not too bad though."

Jack said nothing, having finished off her meal, she hopped off Neron's head to forage more food. Neron watched her go out of the corner of his eye.

"I like them as well. They are frightening foes, I will give, but as allies I think they will be solid. Better those we fear fight with us than against."

If Neron were being honest, he felt more comfortable around the giant wolves who'd tried to kill him than around Jack. The hare was less of a tangible threat, physically, but he could understand the wolves. He could learn about them. He could manipulate and cajole them. Even after such a short time, he'd learned what points to pressure and which conceded on. They were honest in their... not dislike, but wariness. Or caution. Either way, they gave him something to grasp onto and work with.

Jack was a blank slate in comparison. Neron knew she would take revenge on anything that killed her... and that was it. She did not display any other emotion or interest in any topic other than revenge, but nor did she seem to have any ambition beyond eating and living day-to-day. Nothing tied her to him beside what appeared to be a whim and Neron could only guess at what that whim was or how long it would last. Which was a shame, because she was a much more valuable beast to hang on to than all but one of the wolves.

Neron, as he'd done for the weeks since they joined, rolled ideas around his head. Plans, goals, and how to bend everyone around him to purpose. 

Jack returned to her place on his head more quickly this time, a fern dangling from her paw and tickling Neron's nose as he advanced. As Lurking-Eyes had warned, their destination was not far and it did not take long for Neron to catch sight of it from in between the trunks and through a barrier of leaves and pins.

Eventually, the Beast and his beasts emerged from the tree line to gaze upon an impossible sight.

Bones.

Millions, billions, trillions of bones. Bleached white, they stacked upon, beside, within and around more bones in a surface that gleamed in the spring sun with a blinding glare that set Neron to squinting as his eyes adjusted from the transition from the shadowed forest. The forest which ended suddenly over ten meters from the nearest bone. A dividing line where green prosperity halted and barren dirt began, as if some great god decided not a single blade of grass would be allowed to cross.

The wall stretched tall, impossibly so. No matter how far back Neron turned his head, he could not see the top. The white wall just kept going and going, disappearing into the haze of the distant atmosphere. A cloud drifted by lazily in the azure sky, brushing against the majestic structure yet unable to cross and the breeze funneled it further eastward, ever searching for a crossing that would never be. Because the wall did not end. It continued, an uninterrupted line of bleached bones from horizon to horizon. Nobody knew how deep it went, but there were enough bones visible to crush the entire forest Neron had traveled through in a tsunami of ossified remains.

Looking up at this... this macabre monument, Neron felt awe for the first time in his life. True awe, the kind that steals words and imprints on the mind and stirs nameless things in the breast.

Neron approached the Bone Wall slowly, almost reverently. He did not venerate the builder of this impossibly, nor did he know its true purpose, but the work itself demanded respect. Just as a mountain was the process of millions of years of slowly carved stone demanded respect. Neron laid his hand upon the skull of some nameless beast, larger than he was tall, and felt the solid material. Hardened but porous, as if it were regular bone.

Regular bone did not build this impossibility.

Regular bone did not last centuries in the face of storms.

Regular bone did not regrow and maintain its form.

Neron place his hand within the open jaw of the long dead beast and withdrew an infant's skull. 

It was easy. There was no resistance. The skull rattled in his hand, barely smaller than his palm. It was filled with teeth and fangs and phalanges and other tiny bones he could not name. The hole it had left was already filled by a pelvic bone of some inhuman thing, countless more fragments of skeletons of innumerable types filled every gap. From a distance the Bone Wall was almost a smooth surface and nothing Neron or anyone could do would change that. They could dig and dig and dig until they'd built a mountain with their excavations and nothing would change in the Bone Wall.

Some Players considered it to be a boundary set by the creator of the game to limit where they could go. Natives claimed it had appeared after the Woe and stood unmoved ever since, a natural blockade to Calderine's slow but steady expansion south just as Kharak Toul did to the north. They claimed it was a measure created by the gods to limit the Blessed's arrogance, to know they were always limited by the world itself.

Neron did not believe in either, lacking evidence for both. 

Neron believed in the Bone Wall, because it was there, it was real, it had impact and consequences. 

It loomed above and beside him, a challenge to anyone who'd look upon it: 'Behold the fragments of the dead. You are no greater than they.'

"How far does it stretch?"

Neron crushed the skull in his hand. It gave way easily, no different than one belonging to a real babe, and left him holding chunks of bones that he let fall. Amidst the tumbling that was almost musical a single item caught his eye. A fang, one belonging to a lizard or snake with the hollow points for venom injections. He pocketed that fang and answered Fording-Trails.

"It continues westward till it meets the sea and beyond." He gestured in that direction. "Nobody has sailed to its end to locate where it ends. It must, for it does not wrap the world but we do not know where that is. To the east, it also continues beyond Calderine's maps. We know from other Players that it ends somewhere further east than Gibon's Trail but west of Wrentrift. Supposedly it curves southward there but for how far we do not know." The other wolves were listening, he could tell, but they lacked a Self to contribute. 

Except for Shifting-Dirt, who could have spoken but was too busy trying to dig under the Bone Wall to little success. He still appeared to be having fun though, even as great mounds of earth were torn up. The other two puppies were wrestling over a bone of some sort. A pair lounged in the shade of the forest, and the final two were ranging in the distance, little more than blurs to Neron's fox eyes.

"These places, this Wrentrift and Trail, are they passable?"

Just as with Lurking-Eyes, Neron heard what was asked and what was unasked in the fear in the Father's voice. Caw-Caw landed upon the Father's head, a silent reassurance to his old partner. The raven nipped at the wolf's ear playfully, head tilting as a black eye surveyed Neron.

"Theoretically, yes. Practically, no. Not by us."

By the flicker of ears and tilt of the canine's head, Neron elaborated.

"There are monsters, of course. Most will be much more dangerous than all of us combined but if we were careful, and lucky, we might be able to evade them with the aid of the ravens." A nod to Caw-Caw had the raven preening in pleasure. "That would leave us without food, however. You all do not need to eat as often as I, but pound for pound you need more. Players would be another issue. So long as you are with me, I can make them believe you are under my control. It would not work with all of them, and many are likely to kill first and ask questions later, but we would be able to get around them one way or the other. The real issue we face is the terrain. It is impassible with our group."

"The pack fears not the hills nor the rain."

"But you should fear the summer sun in a barren land without rain. One carved into great canyons you cannot climb and must navigate without tools the Blessed use or local creatures have. Even with Shifting-Dirt's abilities, it will be a long, hard journey through terrain you are unsuited for, filled with monsters and players stronger than you, and with little in the way of food or water. And there is no guarantee you will not find worse beyond."

"You argue for the other path? To follow the setting sun deeper into the land of the Blessed?" Lurking-Eyes did not sound accusatory as she paced along the barren land below the wall.

"Yes," Neron nodded, laying out his full plan now that they'd been confronted with the truth of the Bone Wall blocking their way. "There are few settlements near the Bone Wall. We follow it, using the forest filled with prey as our nourishment until we reach the sea. We will follow the coast north. The monsters there might be strong too, but we will have the advantage of terrain and the ability to flee. There are a few cities we will need to avoid, as well as the roads, but with the ravens' warnings and the ability to communicate with those we cannot avoid, it is a safer path. We continue northeast along Kharak Toul until we reach the plains."

"We chose not to chase the stars. That way leads to the grasslands of the Hunters."

"The centaurs are not a problem. Let me deal with them and they will either let you settle on the Steppe or travel it to greener pastures." Neron looked over the pack, and judged a few more words would give them the needed push. "I can not guarantee safety, but I can promise you will be safer than if we traveled east or south."

There was another silence, one of contemplation, and Neron let it stand this time as he focused once more on the towering monument. 

He'd seen it in the distance, of course. It had been impossible to miss, even with the forest in the way, but those had been fragments. Bare flashes of white stolen from between fluttering leaves and in the sky of a clearing or two. Blurred and unfocused, as distances tended to get with the vision of a fox, it had been hard to internalize it even when he knew it to be there.

Now, standing at its base, seeing it stretch to the heavens and the horizon, Neron felt small. Tiny. Insignificant. Many a bone that made up this towering edifice was larger than he was by orders of magnitude. For a man who was taller than average on his planet, whose people were larger than other of their species, and who were the dominate race in the known universe, it was a humbling feeling.

Neron could labor for centuries, possibly millennia, and never build anything even slightly comparable and that filled him with a wonder he had never felt before. He'd seen great architecture before, technology harnessed to let mankind mount the stars themselves, and the closest he could compare it to was gazing upon Olympus. That had been filtered through protective material, and been a vague thing, visible only through the shifting of sands.

This was clear. This was here. This was larger than life.

Neron, overtaken by the feeling of humility, awe, and wonder, asked a question in his heart.

Could he tear-

"You ask much of us, Beastongue," Fording-Trails finally spoke, stealing Neron from his revere. 

The Player turned and saw the wolf leader, Caw-Caw still on his head, with Lurking-Eyes beside him. Some wordless order, the ability of a group leader with a Self to command their own kind, had called the other wolves to stand behind him.

"I ask nothing. You are free to travel any way you wish and I can not control you. I state facts, at least as I understand them."

"As you understand them. Our pack, our family, will live and die upon these words."

"There is no certainty in the world and those who claim so are lying or delusional."

"That is the way of things."

More silence. Then, without a word, the pack of wolves walked past Neron, Jorry, Cuholy, and Jack. They headed west, picking up speed until they were bounding away.

Neron shifted his pack on his shoulders, made sure his beasts were secure, put the Bone Wall to his left, and followed them toward the falling sun.

The silence was broken by the most unexpected source.

"I want to break it," Jack stated in her toneless inflection.

Neron was not the only one stumped by the statement.

"Break what, hare?" Jorry asked, head poking out of Neron's collar.

"The wall."

"Are you crazy!?" Cuholy, forgoing her normal reticence around her killer, shouted in fright. "Look at that thing. It's huge! You can't break it! Why would you even want to try?"

"It's big."

Neron couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped his laughter.

The combination of the deadpan delivery, the simple statement, and the way it echoed his earlier thoughts was too unexpected for him to even try and keep the mirth contained.

"It would certainly be a feat worthy of a dragon," Jorry mused contemplatively.

"It is insanity," Cuholy protested. "And pointless! Neron, you agree with me, right?"

Neron did not answer.

After all, the first thought he'd had upon gazing at the impossible edifice had been to wonder if he could tear it down.

Not because he disliked it, it bared his way, or any other rational reason.

The Beast simply wondered if he could.

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