Days later, standing in the Clodor village they’d first arrived in, where they’d been drugged at the inn, Stephen looked around at the sweeping changes the ‘Iron Wraith’ had instituted. The villagers had been confined to pens, cyborg golems guarded them, and supervised them any time they were moved or fed. Many of the villagers had bruises from the pirate captain's interrogations.

“... and the inhabitants of Maggard’s manor don’t seem to react to the golems," the Captain reported. "I’ve been able to send groups in exploring, and they’ve been ignored. I went with them one time and that triggered an attack, so I’ve been having parties of golems explore without me. They managed to bring back a flesh golem that was under construction, and we’ve been able to complete its creation, integrated into the golems network.”

The captain led Stephen to a construction site where the cyborg flesh golem was working with clay golems to build another enclosure.

“A cyborg Frankenstein,” said Stephen, with a whistle. “That’s not something you see every day.”

“Frankenstein?” asked Emilia, confused.

“Technically, Frankenstein’s monster I guess,” said Stephen. Seeing her continued confusion, he clarified, “A famous, fictional, flesh golem where I grew up.”

“Ahh,” she said, losing interest. “Policing the villagers is taking more effort than it’s worth.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” said Stephen. “Maggard is a bad guy, and the innkeeper and cook were working for him and were probably also bad people. But should all the villagers be rounded up and abused like this?”

The pirate captain’s confusion deepened. “What were you expecting me to do here? You told me to explore and subdue as much of this dimension as I could.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t exactly…” began Stephen.

“You turned a pirate and a bunch of automatons loose on them,” continued captain Blackthorne. “I was somewhat worried you’d chastise me for not being more brutal with them.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary…” Stephen tried to continue.

“My HAL copy has suggested that the next step would be to import cybernetic implants for the imprisoned villagers,” she continued. “Then we won’t have to police them, we’ll learn everything about Clodor and Maggard that they knew, and we’ll be able to put them to work. That’ll allow us to push into Maggard’s manor faster and learn more about the surrounding territory. HAL has some ideas how we might be able to implant cybernetics into the other creatures you encountered in the manor.”

“Yes, well…” said Stephen, trying to process everything he was hearing. “That sounds fine. I’ll be back with cybernetic implants as soon as possible.”

***

Appearing in Blargh’s pickup truck passenger seat, Stephen looked around and saw no sign of the former innkeeper. The truck was parked at the San Francisco airport. A cyborg clay golem was standing in front of the vehicle.

As Stephen got out of the truck, the golem said, “Welcome back to Earth, Master Crawford. Blargh left me with instructions to bring you to the airport command center. They can provide you with additional details about our recent activities here and Blargh’s current location.”

Stephen unleashed a cyborg clay golem card, along with HAL’s seed. The A.I.'s immediately began updating one another. The local golem began walking away from the truck, and Stephen followed.

The airport was mostly deserted, with occasional human and clay golem cyborgs moving around. None of them reacted to Stephen, continuing with whatever task they were working on. The stores had been ransacked, and all security infrastructure was torn down. Reaching a former airline back office, a dozen cyborgs stood in a circle, lights blinking on their cybernetic equipment and on new equipment that had been grafted onto the original computer systems.

“Welcome, Master Crawford,” one of the human cyborgs said. Seamlessly, another cyborg continued speaking, “Blargh has left instructions with us to give you an overview of the current conditions on Earth.” A large monitor lit up and began showing additional details. After bouncing between the various human cyborgs and Stephen’s attention being drawn to each one as it spoke, a speaker in the computer system took over the presentation.

As the presentation unfolded, another human cyborg entered the room and began cleaning and feeding the other humans. Stephen noticed five cots on one side of the room, where two human cyborgs were sleeping.

After the presentation finished, Stephen asked, “Are you some sort of hive mind?”

“Yes, Stephen,” answered the HAL cyborg. “That’s exactly what I am. Wasn’t that your intention?”

“I suppose it was,” admitted Stephen. “It’s just a little creepy seeing it in action. The status update said that Blargh is in Dallas. I take it that means you’ve gotten a pilot and a plane for him?”

“We anticipated some discomfort for you when faced with the reality," said HAL. "We've deployed multiple pilots and planes. It’s mostly small aircraft right now, but we’ll eventually rebuild the infrastructure and get larger planes back in the air. That’ll be a more efficient way to move materials around.”

“I’ve got Adam building some cybernetic implants for Captain Blackthorne in Clodor,” said Stephen. “Is that anything you can help with?”

“I’ve already passed that information on to them,” said HAL. “They’ll have a small shipment for you to take with you when you leave and will have more for you next time you come.”

“Well, keep up the good work, everyone,” Stephen said awkwardly.

***

The next day, sitting in the workshop on a stool, Stephen talked to Adam and HAL as the golem assistants worked on the stone golem behind them.

“So, this Nemorix dimensional traveler is from the dimension Solaria?” asked Stephen.

“That’s right,” said HAL. “It doesn’t really matter, but it’s a dimension that’s somewhat like ancient Rome, with magic cults that do rituals with groups of people. She’s challenged you and, after researching her, I think you can easily put together a deck to beat her.”

“Won’t my fast attack deck do the job?” asked Stephen.

“I think that’s why she’s challenged you,” said HAL. “She’s heard about your deck and thinks she can easily beat you. The deck she usually uses, and what most of her cards are optimized for, is to 'grind' down the opponent's deck. Nemorix has cards that make you lose if your deck is empty, and other cards that force you to discard from your hand and your deck. She’d make short work of your fast-cast deck, as soon as she brought out a card that made you lose with an empty deck you’d be done. Also, some of her cards get more powerful based on the number of cards in your discard pile.”

“Hmm, so a card that let me add my discard pile back into my deck would be useful,” mused Stephen. “Along with a larger deck. Anything that gave me a benefit when things were discarded would be useful too.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“You got it,” agreed HAL. “I’ve tracked down some dimensional travelers in Stredath who have relevant cards that we can likely make favorable trades with. If we can put together a targeted deck against her in the next day or two, we can duel her with a good chance of winning.”

“I don’t want to risk any of my friends as ante,” said Stephen.

“But other champions are ok to risk?” asked HAL.

“I suppose,” agreed Stephen reluctantly.

***

Days later, Nemorix stood on her side of the dueling field, lips pursed, looking at Stephen in annoyance. Pillars and statues gave her side of the field a Roman look. She wore a toga. Her demeanor had shifted from warm and friendly at the beginning of the duel to increasingly unhappy.

“Ah, that’s useful for you,” she observed, eyeing the Pet Cemetery card Stephen had played.

image [https://i.imgur.com/1Ec5CkM.png]

“Yes, I agree,” said Stephen. “I attack with my ghoul.” The announcer’s voice said that the ghoul did one damage and increased Nemorix’ infection by one level.

“I thought I had the upper hand against you,” she said in resignation, “but apparently you’re the one who played me. Lesson learned. I don’t think there’s any way for me to win this.”

“I’m happy if you concede,” said Stephen. “But personally, I always play to the end. Just in case.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Very rational. You aren’t at all the murderous thug rumor makes you out to be. Disappointing.”

Stephen chuckled. “I may have some cards that will work well with your ‘grinder’ deck design. I also know a number of travelers whose decks would be particularly susceptible to it.”

“And what would you want for this information?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’m looking for information about Maggard,” Stephen said. “He sometimes goes by the name Count Lowther. I’ve met him, but somehow he doesn’t appear in my pocket dimension as a contact. He's also the creator of the library artifacts we use to store cards in. I want to know more about how he’s developed the only things that seem to affect dimensional traveler powers. Any new information I can find out about the Inner Circle of travelers would be useful too.”

“Well,” said Nemorix. “I’ll concede, we can trade, then I’ll see if I can dig up anything for you about any of those topics.”

***

The next week, Stephen sat with Shomos, Briarheart, and another of the druids. They sipped Earl Grey tea, which Stephen had brought back from a recent visit to Earth. None of the druids were impressed with it.

“The work with the druids has been paying off,” said Stephen. “Meeting with them and having them prep me about various territories has been useful. I’ve been able to capture a number of them. I think I’m learning quite a bit about druidism while I’m at it.”

Shomos looked doubtful, while the other two druids nodded politely at this.

“From our recent work in Mecond, we think we have a new opportunity for you,” said Shomos. Stephen looked at the three with interest. She continued, “We think we can teach you the background and help you learn enough to capture a goddess.”

***

The next day, a goblin dimensional traveler looked across the dueling grounds at the second copy of the Dangerously Departed Ritual blessing card that Stephen had played.

image [https://i.imgur.com/6YFtWy8.png]

“Ah,” the goblin said. “That isn’t good for me.”

“Sorry,” said Stephen. “I have a fast cast damage card that is going to finish you off, unfortunately. Thanks for the game. I have some trades that I think you might be interested in. And there’s some information I’d like you to stay on the lookout for…”

***

A week later, while walking out of The Malachite Club, Stephen started making his way towards his townhouse. His urban awareness, which had been developing as he spent time in the busy city, warned him that someone was matching his pace behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw a disheveled Avin trailing him. Realizing he’d been seen, the other man quickened his pace and caught up to Stephen.

”I bet you didn’t expect to see me,” said Avin, trying to affect a menacing tone.

”I haven’t thought of you in any way,” said Stephen absently. “If you’re here to beg, I don’t have anything for you.”

”I’m not here to beg,” said the other man angrily. “You turn your back on me at your own peril, Crawford.”

”Yip, yip, yip, barked the little dog,” said Stephen absently. “Keep harassing me, and you’ll need to get resurrected again.”

”Resurrected again!” protested Avin. “You dare threaten me. You owe me for what you did. You owe me big.”

Stephen sighed and turned to face the other traveler. Pedestrians hurrying past seemed to sense the potential for danger and created a bubble around the two men. Stephen heard a passerby whispering his name.

”You only have one thing of value to me,” said Stephen. “And I’m not willing to put up with much of your nonsense to get it.”

”And what’s that,” sneered Avin.

“How were you able to hide your contact information from other dimensional travelers after you were resurrected?” asked Stephen. “Your name and where you were never appeared to me. I've never heard of any way to hide it.”

“Ha, ha,” crowed Avin. “That’s going to cost you. Big!”

”It’s going to cost one of us,” promised Stephen. He then turned around and kept walking towards his townhouse, leaving Avin behind him on the street.

***

Later that week, Stephen appeared on an airship in Riowiver. The traveler wore a backpack housing HAL's seed. Cyborg clay golem crew ran the ship as Gorg hung over the side, watching the ground rushing past far below. Silently, across the network, the A.I.'s updated one another.

Stephen approached him and, without looking, Gorg said, “You’re back?”

”I am,” said Stephen. “We haven’t talked in a while. How goes the subjugation of Riowiver?”

”There aren’t any challenges here,” complained the barbarian. He swung himself back over the railing onto the deck of the airship. “Avin had them beaten down. Your mud creatures herd the cattle they call men here. None can stand up to me. They are poor, wretched creatures. Looting their meager possessions isn’t worth the bother. The slave pens are full of as many prisoners as your soulless minions can guard. We have to put the old, young, and weak to the sword for lack of jailers.”

”It would be helpful if you came back to Avin’s former fortress at sunset, the second day after the full moon, like I asked,” said Stephen. “It’s taken effort to track you down for this update. If Riowiver doesn’t require your particular skills, we can send a couple of druids here and deploy you elsewhere.”

”Don’t talk to me like I’m your servant, little man,” Gorg said. He raised the back of his hand towards Stephen menacingly.

”Never strike me again,” ordered Stephen. The angry look left the barbarian’s face.

”You’ll do as I’ve ordered you,” continued the dimensional traveler. An obedient look came over Gorg’s face. “Now and in the future,” the former graduate student finished.

The barbarian nodded.

”Prepare the crew for mooring,” Stephen said, then unleashed a second airship.

***

Days later, sitting in the center of the shrine to Sylvoria in Mecond, Stephen looked at Shomos and the cleric Orlenis. The shrine was hidden a mile and a half outside of Ravenshire. An elegant dome above them was painted with various scenes from Sylvoria’s myths and legends.

“So Sylvorian clerics are different from druids?” asked Stephen. “And how do rangers fit in?”

Orlenis smiled indulgently and exchanged a look with Shomos. “Is a nobleman’s valet any different from his chef?” he asked. “They both serve the same person, but their functions are different. A ranger pragmatically understands nature and the natural world in order to move through it and accomplish their personal objectives. A druid safeguards a particular piece of the natural world, nurturing it and guiding its growth and development. We clerics commune with Sylvoria and venerate her and what she does. All three are parts of the same ecosystem, as a druid might say, intertwined with one another, but different. Farmers and ranchers are beloved by Sylvoria, and among some of her most devoted followers, for nurturing and growing specific plants and animals.”

“I really learn best by reading,” said Stephen. “There aren’t any religious texts about Sylvoria? If I could study her background, I’d be a better student.”

“From what Shomos has told me, you’ll do just fine as a student,” said Orlenis. “Hers is an oral tradition. The growth of understanding about her, that is nurtured by another follower, is yet another way we honor the goddess.”

Stephen smiled weakly. “Well, I appreciate your willingness to teach me. Let’s begin.”