“Aaaand reach down. Now hold it. There we go! Hold it a bit longer now, that’s it. Nice form, Roland! C’mon Tatzel, what are you waiting for?”
Aeshma was leading us in a pre-hike stretching routine before we started our ascent of Oracle Mountain. It was a beautiful, chill morning, made all the more beautiful by the fact that Tatzel was getting the brunt of Aeshma’s criticisms and corrections instead of me.
“You call that a toe-touch, Tatz? Stretch! Those! Hammies! Let’s go!” Aeshma commanded, stomping over to correct her form. “Look at Roland, he’s doing it right! Mostly!”
I beamed with pride. I wasn’t quite able to reach my toes, but all the exercise I’d been getting from my adventures was definitely improving my fitness. This was the most limber I’d felt since… well, ever. Of course, I still couldn’t hold a candle to Aeshma, who, despite her bulk, was able to twist herself into pretzels like a circus contortionist.
In stark contrast, Tatzel’s toe-touch was more like a knee-hover. She wasn’t even able to get her back perpendicular to her legs. “I’m trying, Aeshma, but I’m just too stiff. If you’d allow me to assume my true form for this farcical routine, I could show you flexibility the likes of which you’ve never imagined!”
“Oh, are you doing the hike in your Dragon form? Is that the one you need to stretch?” Aeshma countered. “Because I figured you’d be doing the hike in the form that, like, has legs.”
Tatzel glared at her before begrudgingly continuing her stretches.
“Seriously, what about those Accountants, though?” I asked, as we moved on to a series of upper-body exercises. Our near-encounter with Grace was still dancing around in my head. “What do you think the Money Mongers guild would be working with some random low-Level party? That does seem weird, doesn’t it?”
My inquiry was met with twin ughs from Aeshma and Tatzel.
“Give it a rest, will you? It was bad enough listening to your wild theorizing all the way on the road here,” Tatzel said.
“Yeah, Roland, the Money Mongers stick their gnarled little fingers wherever they can fit ‘em. It’s not exactly front-page news if they’re trying to tamper in some local election,” said Aeshma, as she gracefully transitioned to an upper back stretch. She frowned when she saw Tatzel’s rendition. “No, not like that! You gotta keep your arms higher. Let me show you....”
“I suspect the Money Mongers are working to avoid another orphan uprising,” said Tatzel. “I’ve heard of their involvement in other Zones, as well. There was an incident with the Cragblood Merchant Dungeon which– yeargh!” She gasped as Aeshma yanked her elbows up towards her ears. “Quit it, Ae! I think you dislocated my shoulder!”
Aeshma rolled her eyes. “You’re fine.”
“But isn’t it illegal for a Guild to interfere in elections?” I asked. “What about, like… democracy?”
Tatzel finished her stretch and straightened out the front of her dress. “Quite frankly, Roland, this has nothing to do with us. Aeshma and I are Monsters, if you haven’t noticed; we can’t even vote in Human elections. Besides which, as a rule I avoid tussling with the Guilds. Especially ones as powerful as the Money Mongers.”
“Yeah. Anyway, why are you so interested in this, dawg? It’s just local politics,” said Aeshma.
“Dawg?” I repeated.
“I was just trying out something new,” she said.
I sighed. For now, my quest for vengeance on Greg would have to wait. We had three tickets for Oracular Prophecy, and a whole mountain to climb in order to redeem them. I slung my branded Queen’s Threshold tote over my shoulder, patted my pockets to make sure the Flare Disk was still inside, and buckled a shield-shaped Jie to my forearm. “It doesn’t matter, I guess I’ll drop it for now. Let’s get a move on.”
–
STAY ALERT!
Gas Crabs have been recently spotted in the area. Don’t hike alone; heed Zone Two Level requirements!
This dire warning was posted on a tree at the trailhead, beside a number of other notices and interpretive signs. I stuck my hand in the tote bag and searched around. “Have either of you seen our last bullet? I took it out of the gun for safekeeping, but now I can’t seem to find it,” I said.
Aeshma and Tatzel both shook their heads. “Also, what are Gas Crabs?” I asked.
“They’re only one of the most beautiful, interesting creatures in all the Zones!” exclaimed Tatzel. “Quite the rare Monster; our timing is fortuitous, to have the chance to cross paths with one.”
“Gas Crab legs are pretty tasty, too,” said Aeshma. “Just add some butter and salt…”
I gave up searching for the bullet and looked up towards our goal: the peak of Oracle Mountain. Even down here at the trailhead, we were at sufficient altitude that the trees were starting to thin out. The rest of the way up was alpine terrain, all scrubby brush and dry soil. From the looks of things, there were a couple segments where the soil gave way to exposed rock.
All this adventuring must’ve been going to my head. If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be going on a multi-hour, treacherous hike, I would’ve laughed. Now, I was barely daunted.
–
“That was incredible, Aeshma! I’ve never seen anything like it! When the Crab pulled out its greatsword, I thought it might’ve been the end for us!” I said. I took another bite into the soft claw-meat of the last Gas Crab which had been unfortunate enough to challenge us during our ascent. Its flavor was subtle, a little bit fishy and a little bit sweet; the perfect reward for successfully reaching the Oracle’s hut at the mountain’s peak.
I had some initial trepidation about eating the meat raw, fresh off of the Gas Crab’s corpse. But Aeshma and Tatzel had assured me that the hot gas inside the creature cooked the meat on its own.
“For sure, dude. I’m not gonna forget that fight as long as I live. Honestly, I didn’t even know Gas Crabs could shoot beams like that,” replied Aeshma, as she dug into a spindly, steaming leg.
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“Oh shoot, hold on. I should finish this Quest before I forget.” I set the rest of my claw-meat down, and from inside our tote bag, retrieved the urn which Steamhouse Jim had entrusted us with when he found out we were heading up Oracle Mountain. Jim wanted his late wife’s ashes to be scattered up on the mountaintop, the place where they had first fallen in love, but the rigors of age had rendered him unable to make the trek himself.
I walked over to a suitably dramatic-looking ledge. Once a suitably strong breeze wafted through, I popped the lid off the urn. As Jim’s dead wife’s ashes mingled with the chill air, Jie and I both burst into a shower of multicolored sparks. It was the umpteenth time I’d gained a Level this hike – I’d already gained about one Level per Gas Crab.
“Hoow about we get you Levelled up first, Jie?” I said, opening up my now-familiar UI. Including this latest Level from completing Jim’s highly sentimental Quest, Jie had picked up two Levels since we started the hike. Perks seemed to come on even Levels – and indeed, he had another Perk slot ready to be allocated. I put his Skill and Stat boosts into Shapeshifting Speed and Durability, as usual. With how fast his transformations were getting, I’d soon have to figure out a different Skill to pump up.
“And as for your Perk… hm…”
As I mentally scrolled through the long list of Perk options, something new caught my attention. A new Gunpowder Perk tree had appeared in Jie’s menus. “So that’s where the bullet went! You ate it, didn’t you, you greedy little bugger?” I asked, scritching the Mimic’s metal rim.
Jie chirped bashfully. Part of me wanted to scold him for eating my hard-earned equipment without permission… but I was too excited about this latest revelation. I’d have to try feeding him even more items in the future, just to see what other secret Perk trees it would unlock.
For now, there weren’t too many options available; almost everything in the tree was hidden behind the Mimic Bullet prerequisite:
Mimic Bullet: You may transform into a basic gunpowder Bullet, capable of being fired from any Firearm with the Mechanical tag. While in Bullet form, being fired does not harm you. Your Bullet form takes on the Damage, Range, and Tags associated with a Bullet of the same type (Basic Gunpowder), whose Item Level is equivalent to your Mimic Level. Prerequisite: consume an unfired, gunpowder bullet.
Obviously, I gave Jie Mimic Bullet. I put my own Level into the Occupational Therapist Class, just for kicks, then told Aeshma I was ready to perform the transfer.
“Alright! C’mere Roland!” Aeshma drawled, doing the best to wipe the Gas Crab grease off her chin. We’d been PDA’ing our way all the way up Oracle Mountain, much to Tatzel’s chagrin. As Aeshma scooched over to me, Tatzel rolled her eyes and pointedly turned away.
“You don’t gotta feel left out if you don’t want to, Tatz! I’d be happy to take your Levels, too!” mocked Aeshma.
Tatzel harrumphed. “You wouldn’t dare. Nevermind the fact that I disagree with your little Leveling scheme on principle. Oh, I can practically feel the ghost-storm the Queen is brewing for us.” She paused and inspected her fingernails. “Perhaps we could still avoid that outcome. If you were to ditch Roland and tithe your excess Levels, we might be able to hide out here in Zone Two until–”
“Can we just deal with this Oracle business?” I interrupted. “I think we should try to get back to Hagit before nightfall.”
Tatzel smirked, pleased that her suggestion had gotten under my skin. I scowled in response. I couldn’t believe she was still trying to drive a wedge between Aeshma and me. Maybe she really was concerned about this Level-farming business garnering too much heat… but nothing bad had happened so far. It seemed more and more likely that Tatzel was just jealous of our budding friendship.
Aeshma, for her part, seemed not to notice the little power struggle Tatzel and I were engaged in. She strutted up to the thick, wooden door to the Oracle’s hut and rapped it a few times with the back of her hand.
“Go away!” came a woman’s voice from behind the door.
The three of us traded confused looks as the voice echoed away to nothing. We had figured we were welcome to knock; there was an “open” sign on display beside the door, along with a series of informative plaques about the history of the mountain and its long, unbroken line of Oracles.
“We’ve got tickets!” Aeshma shouted. “Three of ‘em!”
“I don’t care if you have a mountain of lousy tickets! I’m done handing out readings. Come back next year if you must, but for now, just leave me alone!” the voice called again.
Aeshma’s expression was hard to parse. She was either confused, or thinking of kicking the door in. I decided to pre-empt whatever rash action she would doubtless take next by shimmying up to the door, myself.
“Hey, Oracle? We don’t have any like, really long-winded questions for you or anything. Our prophecies will be real quick, I promise!” I said.
“No! More! Readings! I’m not in the mood!” the Oracle shouted. “All anyone ever comes to visit me for these days is to redeem their tickets and make me give them a prophecy! Well, I have my own problems to deal with, okay?”
“Oh. Uh…. maybe we could just talk, then?” I said into the door, pulling a face at Aeshma and Tatzel. Aeshma shot me a thumbs-up. “You don’t have to do our readings right away or anything. It’s just… we came all this way, and we were really hoping to meet with you, you know?”
A few seconds passed. Finally the Oracle replied, “What do you want to talk about?”
“Well, we’re sort of a, um, ragtag band of adventurers. Maybe we could, like, help you out with whatever your problems are? Especially if they’re preventing you from telling our prophecies with your Oracle powers.”
There was a silence behind the door; I thought the Oracle had decided to leave us standing outside in the cold. Then there was the sound of a chime, perfect and airy, and the door swung open before us. “Alright. Come in, then,” the Oracle said, with the tone of someone resigned to their fate.
My eyes adjusted slowly to the interior of the hut. It was a cozy space, a single room with an earthen floor. A pot of water bubbled away over the fire blazing in the hearth. It was nice being back in the warm indoors, but clearly the Oracle hadn’t planned to have any company over; the place was kind of a mess. Ritual equipment was strewn across the table in the center of the room: bowls of dried leaves, old bones, and unlabeled vials of dark liquids, the glass cloudy and yellow from age. A few bowls were overturned on the floor, their occult contents mingling with a layer of dirt and soot.
And scattered all across the floor were bits of… newspapers? No, they were cut-out scraps of magazines, full-color and glossy. There was a giant, haphazard stack of them next to the Oracle’s bed, too, with a pair of scissors on top. Going off the covers I could see, they were real rags; the sort of magazines that reported nothing but gossip, diet tips, and UFO sightings.
Interestingly, the cut-outs on the floor were all taken from articles on one particular topic:
Secret mayoral relationship exposed!, one headline read.
Major breach of trust between candidates: what does it mean for your orphans?, read another.
What’s driving the wedge between the hottest political power-couple in all of Zone Two?
My stomach dropped. It seemed the road up Oracle Mountain was leading us right back to whatever scheme Greg and his party were embroiled in.
NOTABLE CREATURES
---------------------------------
Gas Crab LV9
Ancestry: Monster
Class: Gas Crab
Notable Perks:
Toxin (Dream Smoke): Gas released from your shell using Vent Gas is infused with stupefying toxins. Prerequisite: Vent Gas
Blistering Blade: You gain a Chitinous Greatsword (Item Level 7). Gas released using the Vent Gas Perk, if you have it, may be funneled through its hollow core. Any such gas becomes superheated.
Student of the Blade: Gain a blade Mantra which temporarily increases the Item Level of your Chitinous Greatsword. Prerequisite: Blistering Blade
