SUPER-LOGS (2–7)

[Extracts : Early ‘Spiral Sessions’ with Pioneer Dan Harvester in Fountellion: Progression Red]

SUPER-LOG (2) : Doorway

[AUTO-TRANSCRIBED from In-World CAPTURES / AVALOGS]
See also the related Walkthrough Notes (Game Design)

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Coffee + brown sugar: mostly drunk.
Phone reception: linked to VR gear.
Apartment config: auto controlled (low-level)
Pet cat: fed, watered, secured.

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‘Ok, my fellow cybernauts; gamers and explorers of the virtual… I decided I would begin at the official doorway. Oh yeah, I’ve got one of the special access NFT keys. Found it where it was well-buried, if you like, on a Revel-planet, of all places (but that’s another story). But, now that I’m all spiralled-up again — jacked in if you like — I’m stood outside ‘The’ front door to: Fountellion, in The Spiral. Yes, after much time waiting. OMFG! And I’m ready to do this thing properly.

I was shown a direct path to the door by this librarian dude, deep within the Firecube library — so I didn’t have to float about all over the tower to find it. What a library! Every book is visually represented there by request. But I wasn’t there to read (although if I ever had to read ‘a book’, I’d go back there, definitely). No, I showed the nice lady the key, like I’d been told and she — maybe she was an NPC, it was hard to tell — at least smiled some rarely-automated emoji (or maybe it was a real smile) before leading me to a bookshelf that moved mystically ajar.

It revealed… a passageway that led through to the doorway.

So now I’m there. Here…

The door itself is pretty cool. The design, I mean. It draws you in. It could almost be for New Sherwood… a tree-house door, like. Only it’s covered. Covered in leaves and foliage and stuff. Around it, there are mysterious carvings that have also been embedded in a sort of rock or stone. You have to clear off the vines to see them. They’re kind of spooky, but enticing, you know? I keep pinching myself. I’m finally going to see what all the hype is about. Or non-hype; all the secrets that have emerged with the alleged integrity… of this whole, long-awaited project — this vision — from Ben Fielding and John Leaven. My heroes, so far.

Anyway… after enough time… scrabbling? Scrambling about… I find some kind of hole, and I manage to get the pseudo-rusted iron-style key in the lock. It turns — unexpectedly — really easily, like… click!… and that’s it, I’m in… Green light glows about the door and I give it a big push.

I feel really adventurous, you know? Like… a pioneer, maybe… Only you guys are coming with… so I’ll try and do a good job. Hey, you can count on me, right?

There have been other Early Access — beta players — I appreciate this. You can go and see their avalogs if you like. It’s no matter. I’ve deliberately avoided them for now. And, I know, you guys are going to be standing here too, yourselves, sometime real soon. And you’ll have a different experience. You’ll do things your own way. But as ever, this is my time. This is my experience. I’ve earned it! Hey, I’m worth it! But… I’m so glad to have you on board. Although I’ve switched off all comments for these sessions. This is just too big. I’m sure I could use some advice down the line, though.

Isn’t this how we all play our games, right? Partly by ourselves, and partly with others? It’s all about the quality of the moment; it depends on the situation. That’s life, eh?

Ok… anyway, come on everybody. Let’s crack open this potion. Let’s go in…. and pray those crafty designers have done a good enough job. Yes, Johnny Leaven and Benji Fielding: this ‘world’ of yours better be worthwhile! I need this!

I’m still loving this battered old door already. And the sound effects: The rusted key scrapes against the beaten lock as it’s swallowed up. They would both be heavy, if either of them physically existed. Next, the hinges; they whinge as I’m pushing and the whole door creeeaks, and then… I’m falling… fading…?!

Damn, I hope I don’t break my interface… again… [VR spiral interface]…

Stay with me folks…’

SUPER-LOG 3: Treading Softly or ‘I Eat some Corn… (Twice)’

So… after opening ‘the’ heavy door I’m fading in again, or out, of inner-space… and can now see an idyllic view of a golden field up ahead, behind a closed, wooden farmland gate. It’s not easy to see the gate because the field is so bright behind it under yellow sunshine, but I can see it must be windy as there’s lots of movement everywhere, in this totally rustic scene.

I begin moving down a track inside woodland, drawn to this shimmering field beyond just… well, because. It’s nice to see a field, you know.

But then I hear the sound of the Spiral door creaking closed behind me and I check back to see if it’s disappeared. Then it does, slowly, and it feels more like a ladder being pulled up. My portal to back home, closing. I do wonder how I’m going to get out of here without bailing out… when… it all fades… away… anyway….

Hey…

Who turned out the lights again? Is this a bug, already? Glitch-land? Will I have to report this?

But… in the new blackness of my visor I can still hear the sounds from the world I was — just now — witnessing. Wind. Birds. A distant shore and waves crashing… somewhere. I listen for a short while, just at the mercy of this new… presence. Then: some starter words:

“How much shall I be changed… before I am changed?”

… before the visuals flood slowly back in again and I’m laying down, in the middle of a field; that golden one beyond maybe… looking up at blue — really blue — sky.

You know, that voice was spooky, yet seductive… a girl’s voice, in a soft whisper. It wasn’t anything overdone though, you know. No reverb. Just almost like it was whispered in your ear, before departing… somewhere… It got sort of, merged, into the sounds from these surroundings. And it’s a great tagline. Changed. It’s still echoing in my head, as I start to look around.

Everything seems now to have finished rendering and let me just say: it’s overwhelming; awesome — in the original sense of the world. It’s not just a field. This is a Fountellion field. I’m like a kid just staring at everything; feeling the movement; waking up to this land with all its promise. I’m here. I made it.

And I could be the first insider? The first official Beta player?

I look for the gate that was closed and thankfully, it’s not far away, where the woodland was, that I was just inside. Some bearings then. I just hope it all won’t fade again and transport me anywhere because…

I see birds move in the sky, caught in the weather variables. Insects, bugs, (tiny!) ladybirds are moving over nearby corn stems. I flick one of them off like I’m a child, just inspecting the perfect touch-accuracy of the simulation. And yes, the ladybird is… flicked. Gone. A bumble bee buzzes by my ear — loudly — and it circles a moment, investigating me, before it actually avoids my presence, unlike so many worlds which might not bother to simulate that kind of attention… to detail. I feel like I’m a presence here, you know? Existing. Persisting.

Standing up, I notice grassy bits sticking to my rough cloak thingy; must be my basic attire. But now I look around and see firstly the straightest line of the blue horizon, strangely elevated some way above green hills and a number of distant pine trees, shimmering slightly. I realise it’s the sea behind them. The distant water is azure. A shining blue. This is escapist country. We’re going free-roaming guys, that’s for sure, and we’re not coming back. Especially if it gets any better than this.

It does.

But first I put my hand out just to let wheat stems — I think it’s wheat — touch against my suited fingers. I’m drawn again to the sea and the tiny detail on the waves moving into a wide estuary some distance below. Then I wonder: is this field of barley-corn ‘virtually’ growing? Will it grow persistently, just as in the Source?

I keep watching a bird as it darts about, brushing low over the field before disappearing over the hedgerow.

If all of this is — mathematically — alive; procedural; changing, growing… then it’s simply masterful; miraculous. All of the interactions, all the variables that it must take. And it’s all hanging together — interwoven — like a tapestry. I feel I can sense the difference in this fabric to other Spiral worlds. It feels ultimate. It feels game-changing. It feels like it can’t get any better in terms of simulation. And yet surely this will only be… the beginning.

It’s all so new, I don’t want any of this to crash or burn you know? Be harmed. Be hacked. I can only try and describe what I’m feeling. I’m feeling connected already to this land. And now I’m thinking maybe this is why I found that key. I’m feeling that it’s been worth it; all the years of playing games and looking for some… success. Some breakthrough.

I’d go further. This place is justifying me; making my existence significant.

Right… ok… so… next questions: What am I doing here? What can I do? How do I control things? There are no indicators in my display at all. Just the graphics, sound, haptics filling the recesses of my visor.

Let’s check out walking and basic movement: all fine and dandy — in the usual, impressive ‘Spiral way’ — no tiny delay with the sync of my own movement-to-avatar ratio.

And I’m certainly ready to go exploring. Hell, I could just go a-roaming merrily around the landscape. I mean, I’m wearing some cool, old-world garb. I’ve got like a monk’s cloak and it’s billowing around me. I spend some time just moving the cloak and marvelling at the suit-feedback for it.

But it’s what happens next that I’ll try to recount — for those who can’t ‘ride’ inside my recording or POV.

I try parting both hands and spreading my fingers… and — just as I’m taking a deep breath just to prepare myself, then… holy hell… it has the unexpected effect of lifting me off the ground so that my legs are trailing underneath and I’m just hovering… It makes me catch my breath so I have to remind myself to exhale, and as I do… I begin to sink softly down into the sunny corn again below. Let’s just say I land feeling pretty excited about this flying feature and it’s only when I start turning my hands over and trying to re-start the sensation that I notice two stains on the back of both my hands.

They’re not stains. They’re… tattoos? Both have dark green outlines but inside one is near fully-red and the other — my right one — is completely filled with blue colour.

I’m not totally sure what they mean — yet — but I have an idea. Energy meters? The two fork-shaped symbols glow as if burning with their colours inside the skin of my hands. I try rubbing them off but the light only fades with the pressure before it… rekindles again, magically. Is my role here to be an apprentice wizard? Is this an island or an archipelago, as in Earthsea?

Let me just conclude this entry by admitting that twice I crash into the field. Bits of it cling to my cloak again. The second time I’m able to jump high enough to feel the breeze wobble me and I drop heavily as a result, but still exhilarated by the power. Tread softly? Ok, ok… I can see the real meaning now. What other meanings am I going to miss? Then I stop and look about. I realise I’m a little further down the side of the hill and I can see the sea and shore more clearly. Again, the detail just captivates me and I just sit and gaze at the view, overlooking it. The wind is picking up and I hear the sound of it rendered in my ears, inside my interface.

I check my new tattoos on my hands and I can see the red one is not restored yet. The toll that my experimentations have taken thus far are small… yet stark. The blue one is still nearly full, however; a jumping meter?

How do I feel about this game so far? Well, I’m a victim, just now, of this incredible virtual landscape. So far the broken barley covering my cloak and the bruise on the arm of my avatar, tell me a small but alarming prospect. That I can be ‘hurt’. There is little pain but a slight tingling on my arm.

And also… the dead insect. A broken grasshopper. I must have crushed it with my second fall. This image I can still recall. Just a small thing, but it sent me one message: things die here. I watch the grassy stems that I have flattened. I feel a bit like an idiot. Just staring at them. A few of the stalks are rising in the wind, trying to stand up again.

As I said, I’m a victim here. Vulnerable. I’m waiting… just to learn about how to exist here — as fully and as quickly possible.

I don’t have to wait much longer; a breeze passes like a wave through the barley and another whisper reaches into my mind.

SUPER-LOG 4: This ‘Greenwise’ Dude…

Brushing off broken corn ears from my cloak, I speak the word “Greenwise” just as this spooky whisper advises me to.

I like him from the start. He comes through the field; ghosts into the corn, more like. The brushing stems part automatically at his presence. And he has a controlled, capable presence; with a purpose that’s only emphasised by his firmly gripped, thick wooden staff. (You wouldn’t want to get hit by it.) Clearly, he’s some magical bloke. Or an angel. I was sure I heard wings.

“Welcome seeker-friend… to Fountellion… the island… the green garden… as it… exists… at this moment.”

He’s got a voice as rough as sandpaper, and I wonder how much I’m going to need him and whether he’s going to keep disappearing on me.

He explains things well but with a mysterious air of… urgency. But while he talks now and then, I’m still zoning out to look at the world around. It’s so… busy. Seeds are dispersing like magical dust in the summery air. Bees and other insects fly on tiny missions around us, over the tops of the planted field. The level of detail again. I mean, it’s beautiful, yeah, but all so… alive. I feel young again.

And now… I get my own personal guru…

“It sure is a nice… world… you have here,” is all I can manage.

This Greenwise dude — now leaning calmly on his Sherwood Forest-style staff — pauses for a moment, as though he’s registering and processing a response. It arrives; his gaze meets mine and his mouth suddenly forms a friendly smile. NPC, semi-NPC. Whatever. I don’t want to break the spell of disbelief I’m under. He looks cool, in the way that any old guy in an old, worn cloak would look cool, because he’s just so… unassuming; humble; wise-seeming. Like a retired Indiana Jones crossed with a Shaolin monk.

“It’s never been my world. No… all this is still yours. But thank you, Dan… and… Dr. Fielding and Mr. Leaven have specifically requested me to say congratulations on finding the key in Revel. And being one of the first, they expect you now to have… questions. But allow me to be a guide, and not answer too much at once. There is not limitless time here. There are dangers too. For your progression. And if we’re… interrupted… do not fear. Just listen to me carefully. You may also summon me again, while there is still light. Are you with me?”

So, no pressure already. “Yeah! On board.. and… thanks.”

“Good. I will continue. I am sworn to protect this land… and yet it is not… yet… in balance… There is a shadow rising across it… and where… it can only be the player — or players; its future Mages — maybe you — that can salvage it. Preserve it. I can only guide… and guard.”

“So you must know all sorts of ninja-type stuff?” I had to ask this, as I’ve seen server moderator-guardians before, and some of them were extremely bad-ass.

A small smile only, but he seems wary too. The AI in this guy must be… intense.

“Only… if necessary. But you wouldn’t want to….” In fact… yes, I would. It’s too much temptation. I move to punch him in the face… just… well, because… to see what happens. It’s a game, right? And already, just like a kid, I’m curious about its limits, so that I can get a grip on the potential scope here: for having fun…

Very easily though, he dodges my awkward move, grabbing the arm-sleeve of my cloak and pulling me easily — and gracefully — off-balance, past him and… down on the ground, where I squash yet more barley.

“…find out.” He finishes, and then immediately offers his arm to help me up.

He didn’t even use his stick. I’m impressed. He continues.

“Sorry Dan, but that won’t work, you’re just wasting time. Soon I can show you better things… if you make it that far, of course…”

He chooses the right words, laying down this challenge to halt my impulsive quest for freedom. Maybe he’s used to this already. I decide to let him talk again; I’ll deal with any business first. But if there’s too much business here then, well; it may look nice and all, but I’ll be right out of here.

“Alright,” I concede, brushing off the clinging stalks again. “So how you do you get to be one of these… Mages?”

“Well… I watched you admiring the landscape. That’s a good first sign. Respect. Yes… you will come to respect your surroundings. But let me tell you a little more, while we have time… and time; it’s something worth having here, as you will see…”

He looks up for a moment, searching the sky, and I wonder if he’s expecting the arrival of more players or something. But his grey-green eyes settle on my presence again.

“When I say I’m your guide, that’s all I can be. You can ask me any question relating to the game, or ‘Tell me about… ‘ and you can be guaranteed that I will give some kind of answer. But I have things I must show you — priorities — so you’d do better to listen more at first, and allow me to talk.”

“So you mean, ‘shut up and listen’, basically!” I say, to test his response range.

“You could say that. For… how can you be expected to know enough to ask the right questions?”

“Because I’ve played other games?”

“That will help, yes… but is this one a game? You can tell me later on, once you’ve survived here awhile…” I’m impressed — and thrilled — by his response, and also to have my own tutor.

Next, he tells me he’s going to help me ‘find my way,’ he says. I can’t help wondering what my source life could be like, with access to on-demand guidance such as this. He carries on: “But only you can find your insights, for they are uniquely hidden. No-one can find them — except you. Until the last.”

To be honest, I’m going to stop here. I’m going to skip some of the detail of the dialogue and training. This is not a full walkthrough. This is my capture, guys. My game story. We’ll cut to the good bits… But first, what is so great about this game so far anyway?

Well, this is still only session one, but hey, I’m feeling it alright. ‘The magic’. The interface is just the most intense I’ve ever felt it to be. It was built for this place. It’s singing now to my senses. I’m embedded, properly. Some of the other Spiral worlds, even the light-gravity planets in Revel. Well… they seem like crude shadows dancing on a cave. Why did I spend so much time in them? Maybe… they were just leading me… here?

SUPER-LOG 5: The Nature of the Game

Ok, great… so with some introduction out of the way, it looks like I might get some answers about this place.

I do…

I get the low-down on my new tattoos (small fork-like runes on the back of both hands — one being my life or energy meter and the other for my ‘powers’). And a whole load of fascinating stuff… but I still get a sense that Greenwise is holding back a lot. And I’m itching to go for more jumping. I hope he’s going to show me this.

I ask him straight out:

“So am I about to be given a resource-gathering quest? One where I have to go a-roaming around and pick flowers to survive?”

He answers me directly and it’s a surprise.

“You can,” he says. “And there will be times, when you’re outside like this, outside the village, that you will be forced to… fend. And you will hunt. But first, you must know what it is to be hunted… and to listen…”

“Sounds fair. I’m listening…”

“Not truly Dan. For if you were, you would hear the whispers through the corn around you. This is not the game fabric. These are — and will be — the words chosen by former mages, developers and even founders, to linger on… So if ever you seek help or wisdom in the game, or inspiration, then you will find it here, when I am… faded…”

SUPER-LOG 6: The Nature of the Game 2 and First Demo from the Guardian

Greenwise still talks as though there is no time to talk and disconcerting to say the least. But he gets round to an explanation:

“I can see you’ve already tried to jump. But are you ready to… find your feet? For I will demonstrate the first power — that of Super-Jumping — of which there are many levels. Follow and watch what I do. Firstly, breathe deeply…”

Inhaling, as requested, I’m taken by surprise. I feel a bit like a balloon in terms of gravity. It’s a strange sensation of connection with the landscape, as my VR trainer lifts me up and leaves my feet treading actual air. I exhale, quickly, suddenly realising the boost it would potentially give during a jump.

I copy the next move from the old mage, planting my feet into the ground, legs bent a fair amount, looking ahead and trying to guess where I might actually end up in a few moments time.

The breeze flaps our cloaks in the interval. Now for the launch.

He demos a bit of stuff to do with correct gesture, arm position, balance. Before the first jump, he tells me to keep in mind the prevailing weather conditions.

“Can you feel the wind? Note the direction as it will affect the force of a jump.”

As though there were elastic bands under both my legs, I jump and then stretch into the air, inhaling deeply. Greenwise goes first and already he’s just this shape soaring skyward. A dark ball of flapping cloak. I can sense the wind off the sea to the right of us. I hear it more in my right ear. Back in reality, my trainer lifts me slightly into the air, but in this world, I’m soaring upwards.

Now I see him beneath me, arms out at his sides, descending in controlled focus. I’m not far off, but I’m wobbling, and trying to keep as steady as he is, holding the action with arms and hands. It’s working. A real virtual rush.

Next, it’s all about the landing. You might say it’s been a concern in the back of my mind since seeing the ground taken away from beneath my feet.

But it doesn’t last much longer. Imitating the pose of Greenwise, it’s a hundred times more graceful than my own first, shoddy attempts. I raise my hands and they act like breaks. I feel the jump slow down so I can touch down lightly, my boots pressing back into soil.

In fact, I thought it was pretty cool the first time round, but with ole Greenwise with me, I start to see the full spectrum of what will be possible here.

Maybe this occurs to me when I do a second mega-leap off the ground, into the wind, and Greenwise reminds me to inhale. There is a slight shimmer and my feet drag behind me in the air as the field gets further beneath me. Now I’m moving out across the shoreline, above the waves of the sea. The sun shines fantastically off the water and the white breakers. I see Greenwise beside me as we glide again, but his appearance distracts me and I start to wobble and it breaks my concentration — and steady breathing — as the sheer sensation of height disturbs my equilibrium.

Falling is… scary. I mean, I can imagine falling in reality now, so I don’t think it’s cured me of vertigo. I do manage to break with my hands a little, but still splash down into wet sand and water. Despite the shock, it’s cool to see my avatar body drenched and I just gaze fixedly at my arms, while kneeling in the shallows, at the detail of foamy water soaking into my cloak. Something — glinting — is mixed up in the white foam. Tiny red, blue and green jewels; perfectly rounded, and more smooth than glassy catch the light in differing strengths. I try to catch one but they’re either too small or impossible to catch as they’re washed in the foam and water and are revealed for just a moment atop the sand. I look up, and for a moment am completely lost in the breaking waves which are full of them, sparkling in the light and gleaming more than anything you’d see in the Source, as those millions of jewels emerge, fall, then scatter and are withdrawn into the super-sea with a sound than sinks into my senses. Then, Greenwise is next to me, pulling me up with a concerned expression on his face. And well… good! I’m glad to see he cares, even if I know he’s just an NPC. He catches my left hand and turns it over, checking the level of the red color inside the green rune mark.

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ENERGY = 40%
POWER = 30%

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“We’ve gone beyond the cornfield, and with your power so low, you won’t be able to jump properly again yet. For it takes longer to regenerate here. We’ll have to walk some of the way back.” He’s scanning the sky again. “Energy and power are linked. Using a power to focus requires about ten percent energy and about thirty percent power.”

As we walk briskly — and wetly — along the seashore, I’m still marvelling at the distance that we have crossed by jumping, and at seaweed strands, and the whole transfixing sea simulation itself. But it seems I’m now going to have to listen again too.

“It’s good you just… fell, you know… for now you’ll know!” he says into the wind. “And I can use this time to explain some basics.”

“Thanks!” I say, although he’ll have to speak louder, because the sea breeze is much stronger by the sea. I also suspect he may have distracted me on purpose up there, knowing I would fall. All part of the demo? But I’m gonna go with him for now. He may well have his reasons.

“Through me, you will learn to acclimatise quickly. But then, later on, you will ultimately learn more of the following, but only if you heed what I say. Otherwise, you’ll learn much slower, and much harder…”

The usual story I guess. And I try to keep up with him where it’s easy to listen to his captivating voice. I don’t want to miss out on his advice. You can feel the consequences all round could be… bumpy. I also don’t want to surface yet and stumble out of my trainer. Some of it goes over my head, but I’m hoping I can summon him later on for a recap.

He lets me climb on his back for a quick-jump the final part of the way (a different gesture, I note upon takeoff, which resembles a ski launch).

When we’re safely gliding back — and down — into the field again (is this where the guy is bound to? Where he draws his extra power too?) it turns out that Greenwise was just warming up with his talk. He takes me through a whole lot more. And it’s some incredible stuff. By the end, my mind has blown up. I just want to flex the capabilities that he’s described. I want more power! But he cautions me, and luckily for him, I’m the kind of gamer right now who must take this game seriously; who’s willing to heed these warnings and not just pick up a new toy and shake it until it makes a noise. Or break it, I should say, so it can’t be played with anymore. There are VRMMOs that invite this treatment from the start, but they tend to get boring very fast. But not this one. Not this time… Not yet, I think…

SUPER-LOG 7: The ‘Stokermen’ Are Coming For… ME !

So… Greenwise finishes telling me about the range of awesome ‘powers’, which now extend to beyond simply jumping about (although I’d be ok with just doing that for a good few sessions). Now it seems there’s Higher Listening, Hunter Mode and… Transformation for strings to my bow, together with more know-how about the ‘fabric’ and finding ‘Insights’.

What gets to me though is… Transformation!? I’m already looking around, instinctively spotting insects on grass stems, beetles and noticing different types of low-flying birds darting over hedgerows. He means I can become many of these fast-moving creatures or tiny, minuscule bugs? Each with survival powers of their own… “Ohhh… Mmm… Gee…!”

But then the Guardian holds my arm — more firmly this time. My suit responds to the grip. He looks intensely at me, and for a moment I think I can make out a green glow of fire, lining his already green eyes, set in his nut-brown face. The fire glints; it’s a really cool effect.

“For now… keep moving. Watch the skies. Don’t be taken by surprise or stay out in the open… and you’ll buy time so that you can… get better.”

“I’m on it…” is all I can manage. But it’s true. I’m into all this. I’m well game, even.

“Summon me again when you get to the forest, but if the sun is below the horizon, I cannot come. Farewell, player… for now…. we’ll play us a good game, eh?” Flashing a toothy grin and winking, he then transforms ‘onto’ a bird that swoops suddenly towards us; some owl of some kind. It’s got these long sort of eyebrows, which make it look… wise and cool. I just watch — dumbly — as he flies off towards the Scots Pines lining the headland above the mouth of the estuary. Maybe he ‘lives’ round here. I’m not sure, but I thought I saw some kind of house earlier, beyond the field, when I was up in the air.

I think I could live here. It sure beats my flat. And it’s nearly — or not too far — from being real. Alone again, I’m left to green dust motes drifting in the soft wind like gemstones; birdsong, the noise and the stunning sight of those far waves whispering their continual break-up onto the wide shore below this field of golden, swaying barley.

Hey… I’m free! Mind = blown. What shall I do? Where will I go?

Well, I’m never one for following a main quest path. Not when the basic tuition has finished and everything is then…. open. I always like to test things, when I’m fresh into a game; a kid in a sweetshop, or sandbox. [That’s why maybe, I end up very soon after — stuck in the mud and bog by the river. You remember the place? Where I started this crazy, engrossing dream-log. Although, maybe the other reason is something that Greenwise failed to tell me, but we’ll come to that soon enough…]

The only limit to all this freedom are the marks on my arm.

Tattoo marks:

ENERGY = 50%
POWER = 70%

So it appears that Focus or super-jumping or whatever is taking up a fair bit of juice. Considering I’ve only done three or four jumps so far; I’m wary of the expenditure.

But of course I do more. I manage to get a few more successful solo super jumps under my belt, or cloak, as I leave the corn field far behind and move up into the island. I descend, arms outstretched, landing at a point where I can see more open land, with sparse trees. I’m loving the jumping, and am feeling properly fired-up about all the powers and stuff, but I’m still worrying over everything he’d said about the survival and the sun going down.

Just then, however, out of the blue, that’s kinda what happens; and I find out why Greenwise has been so shifty since I first met him hours ago. Well, it feels like hours after all the info he’s pressed into me.

I suddenly have much more than I’m ready to handle on my plate. Prepared? No. (But isn’t this always the way, eh? Despite a load of tutorial.)

The sky — already dim — now turns much darker. But it’s not time for sleepy bye-byes folks. Not at all. It’s some kind of… smoke coming over the line of trees which mark the start of a dense, imposing forest. The river runs through the open fields before it’s swallowed by that forest, and my plan is to stick close to it and follow it.

But I begin to see… two black, smoking dots, like airborne insects, crawling into view above the tree-tops, through the air, in some broken attempt at flying. Then I start to make out long, impressive things they’re carrying. And I’ve little doubt they’re hunting for me…

So… I begin a bit of frantic jumping towards the river. Trouble is… I still suck at the focussing thing. I can’t visualise in my head the correct balance of elements to trigger a decent jump. And I realise it’s boggy — peat or something, weighing my feet down. I jump again, badly. I look up and see these flying burnt human things are… much… closer. I’m under pressure. Then I miss a stepping stone. I get stuck.

[And this is where we came in…]

Such a feeling of helplessness so early on in the grip of this world is not something I’m going to forget quickly. In fact, I’m going to do everything I can to make damn sure it doesn’t happen again. Even if that means putting up with Greenwise for many more sessions.

But right now I’m doing everything I can to focus myself out of there, raising hands quickly, trying to concentrate. It’s Luke Skywalker trapped upside down on planet Hoth all over again. Only I realise how hard it is to think when you’re stuck and there’s monsters homing in. Nearly impossible. But the mud is shifting slightly. I might just get free if I get more time.

But I don’t have time. So I just stop for a second and stare. These Stokerguys are more than impressive. They’re so blackened as though singed from an almighty furnace. Their thin forms move crookedly, impeded somewhat, by being airborne; at the mercy of the air; trying to get closer to the ground. They don’t need to make low moaning noises as they’re more than scary enough, with just the sound of their tatty clothes flapping in the wind, their stoker-sticks knocking against each other’s in their attempt to descend and skewer me on one of the points. Now and then it sounds like they’re trying to talk but have no tongues.

ENERGY = 10%
POWER = 30%

Without a shadow of a doubt they’re going to get me. Take me off. Whatever it was Greenwise said. I whisper for the old mage anyway, but hold little hope of an appearance. I think about jacking-out, but inside the game they would still take me away; my absent avatar body. I find myself just hoping they’ll get stuck too, or their lances, in this mud, but one of them just pulls it free like a giant pin out of a cushion.

We’ve said our prayers and now we wait for death…

But just then a torch burns and cuts through the evening gloom. It’s moving. It comes through the air and lands close to me in a burst of sparks and light. It surprises these two Stokermen assigned to my ‘collection’, instantly into confusion. They back up, forced to drift upwards again as the sparks spread outwards from the torch in all directions. I stare stupidly at the tree-line of the forest, its dense safety and big trees more illuminated — quite near, but still so… far… and wish now I had tried the transforming thing before making this crossing. But I’ve no idea if any bugs or animals are nearby to transform into. But I do see, something… no… someone… emerging…

Is it Greenwise? No, it’s someone else. Thinner and shabbier. But he jumps as soon as he’s in the field, landing expertly on a stone near the river. He moves so fast to my rescue I promise myself that one day I will move as masterfully as he.

The two Stokermen are both readying for another stab, each raising their long, thin staffs steadily for some fatal poke at me — or us. But I never really get a good look at them, even in the torchlight. I’m like a rabbit I’ve seen, in some video online, tossed into a lion’s cage. I cower down, hoping the sharp teeth will pass over me, so I can run for cover. But I can’t even run, so I just squint towards the river, and the figure who is my only chance of a lifeline, thinking that at least, this is just a game.

I only realise later how the lifeline reaches me exactly. The stranger picks up a large stone and throws it with two hands nearby so he can jump closer, which he does swiftly after yelling at me: “Get ready to jump!” It’s very muddy and the stone makes a large thud. He follows soon after, and landing easily on top of it he reaches out, clasps my arm firmly and starts to try and haul me out and up into the air. I summon the best kind of super-jump I can manage at the same time, with the result that, suddenly — I’m flung skywards, freed from the ground, soaring above the field, up through the middle of the floating figures, and can escape into a controlled, if rapid descent into the tree cover. I don’t see how my rescuer manages to escape, although I assume it’s via some impressive move, or backflip, as I hear a crackle of dust behind me. I think I also make out a terrible, guttural moan from one of the wraiths as I leave them fast below me… but after this I’m too busy crash-landing, heavily.

…But that’s how I made it into the dark safety of the forest, standing up just to lean on a nearby tree for support.

I won’t deny that just then I felt… pretty cool; a bit lucky, and… glad that you guys should get to see the full capture one day. It could be worthy of over a few hundred thousand hits. I find myself already trying to come up with a catchy title: ‘The Rabbit is Freed’, or something, would be more truthful, at this stage. But I feel some anger too, to be fair, at having been thrown into what feels like a golden cage right now, almost.

Maybe I’ll get some real answers from the stranger…

Read the full book + game concept on Amazon….