Description: A twenty-eight-acre deciduous forest, consisting mostly of oak trees, separating many of the westernmost farming villages of Vestor from the nearby town of Greenborough
Average level: 3
Nick had never experienced hunger like this before as he scrambled beneath the thick canopy of the forest, pushing through the thin, yellow-leafed brush that scraped at him with its scraggly branches. Life on Station 79 was highly organized and regimented. He ate when it was time to eat, with a carefully portioned meal designed to make him feel just shy of full. Yet here in Yensere, he had no such provisions, and his clenched stomach was furious at him for the lack.
“Hey, Cataloger,” he said, pausing before one of the oak trees to glance behind him. So far, no sign of anyone giving chase, particularly the terrifying knight in golden armor.
Yes?
“Why am I so hungry? This is all a re-creation. I shouldn’t need to eat.”
Sustenance is a required aspect of life
“But why? Who made this world and decided to keep in starvation? Why not just remove that whole thing?”
I cannot answer that
Nick sighed and kept moving. He had to get farther away from Meadowtint. Anywhere in this world had to be better than that strange village with its black-tongued residents and time-warping guardian. Even without Cataloger giving an answer, Nick had a strong guess as to the reason why hunger remained. You had to eat because, well, that’s what you did in the real world. And so far as he could tell, all these various re-creations of animals and people were unaware of the nature of their digital existence.
“Hey, Cataloger, you’re meant to help me, right? Is that only with information, or can you change the world around me?”
Why would I be able to change the material world?
Nick paused his walk to feel the bark of an oak tree. At least, that was what his mind called it when he looked at it. He’d never seen an oak tree in real life, but he swore its bark shouldn’t be quite so dark, nor smooth.
“Because this world isn’t real, and you’re a computer program run by it. Why couldn’t you change what is around me?”
Visitor’s insistence on the unreality and illegitimacy of Yensere will only delay integration and adaptability
“Is this a really long way of saying you can’t conjure me a hamburger to eat?”
A long pause.
My answer was meant to be informative—as for your hamburger—no, I cannot
Nick pushed off the tree and continued his march. Resolve filled him. Time to be a forager, right? That’s what he’d thought when escaping Meadowtint. He scanned the forest floor, forcing himself to be aware of his surroundings, not just what was obvious. After about five minutes, he discovered a small berry bush growing up to his knee. He knelt before it, scanning the pale leaves for any sign of danger…not that he knew what that would be.
“How about this? Can you tell me if these berries are safe to eat?”
With an Endurance score of 2, you should experience very mild discomfort in your stomach from consumption of felberries
“That’s good enough for me.” He’d never heard of felberries before, and hunger aside, he was eager to try one. He plucked one of the fat little red berries off a branch and popped it in his mouth…and then immediately spat it back out. The crushed berry landed in the dirt, offering no relief. The flavor lingered, and he hawked and spat repeatedly, desperately trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth.
“It…it tastes like battery acid mixed with a sweaty sock.”
You asked if it was edible—you did not inquire as to its taste
“You could have warned me!”
Visitor has repeatedly expressed hostility toward unrequested information
Nick fought back a gag reflex, then grimaced down a swallow. The last of the bitterness finally dwindled enough for him to ignore it. He glared at the plump little red berries as if they had played a trick on him. Felberries. That explained the name.
“Fine, point taken,” he said. “Please, Cataloger, feel free to chip in with information you think might be helpful. Just…don’t do it too often, all right?”
I will do my best to provide aid at a cadence your temperament finds acceptable
Nick couldn’t shake the feeling an insult was buried in there somewhere. Lifting his sickle, he hacked at the base of the felberry bush. After three swings it toppled over, and Nick took great pleasure in stomping dozens of the foul berries underneath his boots.
“There,” he said. “Mission accomplished.”
Mission?
Nick smirked at the unseen specter of Cataloger. “Protecting other hapless visitors from eating those awful berries.”
Congratulations, then—great success
When he looked deeper into the forest, he saw a brief golden outline shine across more than a dozen similar bushes throughout the underbrush.
Though you must repeat said success many times to eradicate the felberry bushes and protect future visitors
“Cataloger,” Nick said, lowering his sickle. “Are you being sarcastic?”
No answer, which as far as Nick was concerned was answer enough. He resumed his walking, which was not entirely aimless. With the mountains forming a seemingly impenetrable natural wall to the west, it seemed likely that by continuing east through the forest he would encounter civilization. Just, hopefully a more welcoming civilization than the people of Meadowtint.
The farther he traveled, the greater his anxiety. There were no bugs, no flies. He heard no songs from birds, and when he saw a squirrel, he startled at the sight. Four eyes. It had four eyes.
“Are you sure that’s a squirrel?” Nick asked, but then as he stared at it, the visage flickered, and the proper number of eyes appeared on its red-and-beige face.
Names of flora and fauna are used when applicable to ease visitor’s integration
Nick touched one of the “oak” trees. He was certain now that a real oak would not feel so smooth. He snuck a glance at the squirrel, saw it still possessed two eyes as it scurried up the highest branches and out of view.
“What I see,” he said. “Are you changing it to make me feel better? More…at home?”
Measures are taken to ease integration, yes
“Which means I can’t trust my own senses.”
Changes are small and few and will not interfere with your daily life
Easy enough for her to say. Nick walked the forest with a new sense of unease. Aurora Woodlands, which had seemed healthy and vibrant enough when he sprinted into it in a panic, appeared to be losing its luster. The green of the not-oak leaves was turning brown, an ugly and rotted-looking color. It made the leaves look…drained. Sickly.
“Is fall approaching?” he asked, pausing before a particularly unhealthy tree.
It is currently spring
“Huh.” He touched one of the leaves, then immediately regretted it. The surface felt slimy. “How long until summer?”
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Unknown
He frowned. “What do you mean, unknown? I don’t need an exact date, just a rough estimate.”
It is currently spring
“Right, you’ve said that already.” His anxiety worsened. Cataloger had seemed so eager to help him learn about Yensere, so why this sudden caginess? “Fine, how about this? How long has it been spring? Tell me that, and then I’ll do the math myself.”
It has been spring for six hundred and thirty-seven years, having started in the first Year of Vaan
The pronouncement drove a sharp chill down Nick’s spine. That couldn’t be right…could it? Then again, this world wasn’t real. The seasons themselves could be malleable to the whims of Yensere’s creators…or maybe whoever was currently overseeing this world.
I give my heart to the Conqueror of Time…
“Is this what those villagers meant about their god-king conquering time?”
Possibly
Nick looked about the forest, its drooping branches, its pale bark, and its sickly brown leaves slick with a strange wetness that made his skin crawl.
“I think the forest misses summer and fall.”
Unknown
Nick had a distinct feeling Cataloger did not like discussing such matters, so he let it drop. He pushed onward, studying the trees the deeper he traversed the woods. White streaks began to claw their way up the bark, looking like powdery scars. The leaves themselves seemed wrong, and it was a good hour before he realized why when he held two side by side. Their shapes were perfectly identical. The same went for a third leaf he checked, and then a fourth.
It wasn’t just one tree, either. The whole forest, and its entire green-and-brown canopy, was composed of a single shape of leaf.
“What’s happening here?” he whispered, dropping the leaves. They fell to the ground. They didn’t float or flutter, only dropped like stones. When one landed on his foot, he flinched, expecting it to hurt. It did not, but he kicked it away all the same.
Your surroundings may not be rational, but they’re still built on systems and rules, he told himself as he walked. So think rationally about them. If the seasons halted, then the natural progression that the trees would be programmed to follow would also be halted. Their cycle has been cut short. So, after six hundred years, maybe it’s glitching. This whole forest might be nothing more than an unexpected bug.
This did not comfort him like it should have. The idea of errors happening in a world that felt so real, so flawless, made his insides squirm.
“Cataloger,” he said, but before he could finish the thought, a strange growl stole his attention. He froze in place, clutching his sickle in both hands. Up ahead, he heard the rustle of leaves, the crunch of underbrush, and the breaking of bark. Another growl, deep, heavy, and sounding pained. Nick retreated several steps, focusing his attention on the direction it came from.
There, in the distance, mostly hidden by trees, he saw a hint of brown fur. A bear?
No
“Then, what is it?” Nick asked as the thing finally lumbered into sight.
Armor: Hide, Tier 2
Temperament: Hostile
“No shit it’s hostile,” he muttered, squeezing his sickle tight.
The unknown creature bore the body of a bear but the head of a deer, its enormous eyes wide and bloodshot. Bits of moss and sickly streaks of white bark hung from its rack of antlers, whose shape was unnaturally curled and uniform. Its back legs were those of a wolf, only enormous in size to endure such tremendous weight. As for the arms, well…
The fingers poking out from underneath all that muscle and brown fur were undeniably human.
“Level six?” he asked Cataloger, feeling betrayed. “What happened to average level three?”
Would you like me to explain averages to you?
“Not now,” Nick hissed as the deer thing howled, a sound akin to a bear’s roar but containing far too much humanoid screeching mixed in. He braced as it lumbered toward him, its gait wildly uneven. The arms in the front struggled to maintain balance, while the back legs easily lunged it forward.
“Ignore its level,” he told himself as he tensed. “Dodge its attacks, and strike when it’s vulnerable. Just like you did with Gareth.”
Two more lunges, and then the bizarre creature was before him. It tried to rear up on its hind legs, just as a bear would, only the wolf legs were unsuited for the motion. Instead it wobbled, spittle flying from its mouth as it shook its antlers. Nick eyed those antlers as fear drove a deep spike into his chest.
How much damage will those do? he wondered.
The damage range of those antlers is approximately seventy-nine to one hundred twenty-six percent of your maximum health
The wolf legs vaulted the beast forward in an awkward lurch. Nick flung himself to the side and did not even attempt to slash while doing so.
Definitely don’t get hit.
He dug in his left heel to halt his momentum, turned, and then dodged again as the creature swiped wildly to its side, trying to grab him. Nick caught sight of those fingers and their blackened fingernails and swung his sickle on instinct. The sharpened interior scraped along the creature’s arm, carving into the fur.
It howled with rage, the ground seeming to shake from its sudden fury. Nick dashed away, in full retreat as it chased. He weaved from side to side, putting every nearby tree between him and the monster. All the while, he eyed his green stamina bar and the frightening rate at which it dropped. Not as quickly as on his first day in Yensere, but still, he was already pushing himself too much.
The distraction cost him. A flex of the wolf legs, a victorious howl, and then one of the arms sideswiped him. The impact lifted him into the air, a flight that lasted but a heartbeat before he crashed into a tree.
Can’t outrun it, he thought, spinning to place his back to the tree. Have to fight it.
A terrifying prospect, but he’d fought Sir Gareth and lived. Level 6? No time magic? Infinitely more doable, right?
The deer opened its mouth for another shriek, this one even less natural than the last. Nick heard a grinding of metal within it, as if two saw blades were colliding in its throat, the sound coupling with the guttural roar of a bear to create something wholly new and horrifying. Its eyes widened, the muscles of its human arms tensing. Nick flung himself to the side, just in time to avoid the creature’s slamming its horns forward in an attempt to impale him. Instead they struck the oak, the sharp points embedding deep into the bark.
Nick slashed twice with his sickle, desperately wishing he had a proper weapon, the two hits shaving a paltry amount of red from the thing’s health. The creature’s hide was thick, but thankfully it was no tier-whatever chain mail.
I can kill you, he thought, baring his teeth. It’s just a matter of time.
The wounded thing ripped its horns free of the oak, howled with pain and fury, and then tried again to impale him. Luckily for Nick, its upper body was too thick, its movements too awkward, like it didn’t quite know how to move its own body. Nick shifted closer to its rear, his sickle clutched in both hands as he hacked straight down at its spine.
Blood wet the brown fur and spilled across the ground, disturbingly dark in color as it dripped. Nick dared not think about it now. Another metallic shriek. The creature retreated while spinning its lower body in an attempt to face him. Nick, despite all instincts screaming to the contrary, maintained his aggression. He flung himself toward its side, keeping away from its deer head and perfectly oval arrangement of spiked horns. Another slash, weaker and with one hand, to carve out a thin groove alongside its meaty flank.
It still had more than half its health remaining, though it was looking tired now. It sidestepped, flinging its greater weight against Nick with a thud. He tumbled, gasping for air from the impact. The green of his stamina bar was a measly 20 percent, making it laborious to stand once again. The monster spun to face him, its right arm lashing out in a manner vaguely resembling the movements of gorillas Nick had seen in documentaries. He braced his arm and legs and pushed into it, the only option that came to mind. The hand collided against him, and he gasped at the horrid pain. Not good, he thought, the swipe scooping him closer. Instinct screamed at him to move, to attack, but his mind froze at being in such close proximity to the nightmarish thing. The way it breathed was wrong, too heavy, too guttural. The movement of its joints sounded of metal. The smell of its breath was beyond foul, a visible white fog that reeked of rotting meat. It reared up as well as its back legs allowed, both arms clutching their fists together.
It was going to kill him, and Nick prayed it would be quick.
As his body tensed against an expected impact, a thick shard of ice shot over Nick’s head and slammed into the creature’s chest. It staggered and flailed, blood leaking down its fur from the deep, jagged piece of ice embedded in its chest.
Though his anxiety shot up at the sudden appearance of the ice, Nick dared not waste such an opportunity. Bellowing for confidence, for fury, he buried the jagged end of the sickle blade straight between the two horns of the terrifying monstrosity that should not exist. It lowered its head, ready to impale him, but Nick swung a second time, shifting his aim the tiniest amount. The blade struck an eye and then buried deep.
The creature shuddered, all strength leaving its legs. Its final lunge was a pathetic collapse, one Nick easily retreated from, and then it lay forever still.
Reassessment
Level: 4 (+1)
Statistical Improvements:
Agility: 2 (+1)
Physicality: 4 (+1)
Endurance: 2
Nick slowed his breathing, deep ins and outs taught to him by his older brother to manage his occasional panic attacks. Waves of pleasure rocked through his body. The red of his health extended as he gained more points, as did the length of his slowly recovering stamina bar.
“Level six,” he said aloud, and pointed his bloody sickle at the corpse. “You’re nothing. Nothing!”
And then he laughed, delirious and excited despite the exhaustion tugging at his body and the throbbing pain from where his back had struck the tree.
Then he remembered the ice.
He turned, searching his surroundings. He saw only trees.
“You’re out there, aren’t you?” he said out loud, remembering the strange woman in silver armor who froze him in the river right before his first death. “Are you watching me? Why help a stranger you’ve already killed once?”
He was met with silence, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. Nick turned his attention to the slain monster. Might as well focus on what was in front of him.
“Now that I’ve caught my breath,” he said, using a few leaves to wipe the blood from his sickle. He hated how little red was in it, as if the thing bled ink instead of blood. “Care to tell me what that damn thing was, Cataloger?”
There is no indexed entry of it within my catalog
“So you’ve never seen something like that before?”
Nick did not like the way Cataloger paused before answering.
Not that specific creature
There’s more like it, Nick thought, his elation draining with the last of his adrenaline, or whatever the digital equivalent of it was. The idea of encountering something similar, or worse, replaced the joy of increasing his level with a sense of foreboding. He’d barely survived that encounter. What if the others were worse? Stronger, or less awkward with their movements?
A thought came to him, and he had to have his curiosity satisfied.
“Hey, Cataloger, what’s the level of a plain old brown bear?”
An adult brown bear has an average level of 7
Nick resumed his trek through the forest, more than happy to leave the corpse of the strange, mutated beast far behind.
“Well, let’s hope I don’t encounter one of those, either, eh?”