Every player without a prestige class had volunteered to go to the tower with Mason. He suspected everyone was starting to feel time and pressure now that the system was changing the game.

Pretty soon there were going to be more humans around—and some kind of universal ranking list where people could see each other’s names and maybe titles, and who knew what else.

Where you ‘ranked’ was suddenly going to be a lot more competitive.

After a quick goodbye to the others, and a bit of an internal debate, Mason decided to Wyrdwalk most of the way to the orc towers. He was worried he might have to deal with more 'tricksters' of the fey, or find some fresh problem in that confusing landscape. But he was home now in the great forest, and all he had to do was get to a great tree not far away.

He had the volunteers wait in the teleportation circle with a deck of cards and plenty of food and water.

"What if I need to take a piss, then?" Tommaso had asked, and Mason rolled his eyes.

"Piss out of the circle."

"Alright, what if I need to take a shit?"

Garet had lifted the bucket he’d apparently brought, and they'd all had a good laugh. Mason didn't expect things to take very long. Their back up plan was to come back at the same time the next day for several hours, but it seemed unlikely to be necessary.

The world vanished as he entered the wyrd, each trip helping him tell the difference between the different sounds of life all around him. Even the 'steps' were making more sense, which were really moving him from major landmark to landmark. As he did he realized 'shorter' steps were possible, though maybe not for him, or at least not yet.

The fey creatures lived inside those shorter steps. That's why he could hear them whispering, but couldn't see them. They were there for one of his senses, but not the others, able to perceive him clearly while staying 'hidden' from his sight. But Mason had already resolved himself to one day find that trickster that had screwed with him.

He wasn't angry anymore. He didn't hate the creature. But even before he had a House and a settlement and maybe a species to protect, Mason had long understood power.

It was why bullies, even older ones, hadn't ever given him so much as a second glance. You didn't pick a fight with something you knew would turn on you twice as fast and with all its strength, and didn't seem to care what happened. You didn't fuck with a honey badger.

Mason intended to teach that 'trickster', as he'd taught the goblins, and the orcs, and would teach every other fantasy creature roboGod threw at him, right up until he could somehow teach the synthetic God himself—screw with humans, and someday, somehow, you pay a price.

Finding the great tree near the orcs wasn't difficult. He heard the old tree's voice grumbling, its mind and energy turned to rebuilding what the goblins had destroyed. Mason stepped out from the fey and let out a breath he'd apparently been holding, never comfortable in the strange land. He smiled and put a hand to the ancient tree, feeling its life and power thrum like a tired old engine.

He felt it notice his presence and warm with welcome.

"Can't stay," he said, using Speak with Nature and turning all his senses as carefully to the surrounding woods as he could. He felt the trees and animals already returning, the swelling of previously rotten roots, the clean, flowing water beneath the soil.

He turned on Blessing of Gaia, letting the great tree draw from some of his strength, grinning as it pulled at him eagerly. He startled as a few vines dangled from above, green and young, trying to touch him shyly and curiously. He let them, realizing the longer he stayed and the longer his power was on, the more living things around seemed eager to come closer and see.

Pretty soon there were birds actually landing on his head and shoulders. They tweeted for their kin, cleaning themselves and squawking at rivals to get lost. A few squirrels zipped up his leg. Some ants swarmed over his feet.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Alright. I'm like a Disney princess now."

He laughed as some birds started fighting over his outstretched arm, then turned off Blessing of Gaia. Most of the creatures scattered, only a few birds smart enough to know the show might start again until Mason shooed them away. He pat the great tree and turned for the orcs, wishing he had more time just to explore and try his powers.

Every day that passed gave him a kind of increased wanderlust—a desire to see this world for himself, to learn its hills and valleys, and how his powers could change things. Improve them.

He didn't know if it was roboGod screwing with his mind, or just his personality. A part of him feared it was all just manipulation based on his 'classes', a kind of mind control to fit the alien's narrative.

But he had always loved nature. In another time he might have been an explorer, eager to find the last few unseen places in the world, to claim a piece of it for himself. This new world had finally given him that chance.

Yet here he was, chasing after Blake, putting down bullies, dealing with all the problems of condensed humanity.

Mason sighed, and tried not to think of himself alone, with only his girls and their children, exploring the world and leaving everything and everyone else behind.

"One day," he told himself, wishing he could believe it.

The orc towers remained much the same as before...except for a new, startlingly white spire on its edge, jutting maybe even higher than the others over the horizon.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Blake," Mason cursed, shaking his head as he sprinted toward the walls.

His brother had told him briefly of what he'd done for the 'lady' of this new tower. Mason tried not to wonder if whatever resource he'd used couldn't have been brought back and used in Nassau. The answer seemed almost certainly yes.

That meant this place had already cost them a reward. It cost them God knew how much of Blake's time, which could be used elsewhere. Now it was time to find out just how much more time and energy they'd have to spend. Mason very seriously considered just killing them all.

But after a small internal argument, he sighed and knocked at the front gate.

Within a few seconds he heard movement inside. Orcs were growling back and forth until a small slot opened on the gate, and a pair of yellow eyes inspected Mason before widening.

"It's him," it muttered low. "The green eyed wizard." A series of panicked grunts and arguments followed. Mason called over the gate.

"I'm not here for violence. I just want to see the...white tower wizard. Or Lady..." Shit, what had Blake called her? "Lady Somethingeye. Orange? Red?"

"Lady Ambereye," hissed an orc, obviously offended. Mason snapped his fingers.

"That was it. So let's stop screwing around, yeah? You just go tell the lady or the wizard I'm here, and maybe we don't have to kill each other. Sound good?"

The orcs went on muttering and arguing, and Mason closed his eyes and imagined himself in various sexual positions with his girls. It actually helped. A little.

"You may enter," said the gate-guard. "But if you stray from the path, we will kill you."

"Sounds great."

Mason rolled his neck and considered leaping up over the gate just to make a point. But he decided against it. It creaked open and a half dozen spearpoints welcomed him inside. The wielders backed away and led him to a visible road he could follow to the tower. He followed it, hands raised slightly in the air.

"Good orcs," he said. "Nice orcs."

They glared at him with squinted eyes, following in a loose formation all the way to the gate. He sighed and looked at the huge double doors, the huge eye staring at him from above.

"Looks orange to me," he muttered, then touched his hand as if to enter a dungeon.

Nothing happened. A moment later it made a kind of buzzing sound, and Mason shivered as a familiar, warm sensation prickled against his skin. Big Brother was watching. Or at least some version of it was. That was certainly interesting, and Mason would have liked to know exactly why...

The orange eye blinked open and stared.

"Be you friend or foe?"

Mason let out a long, impatient breath, and considered smashing the stupid gate apart until he remembered all the orcs with spears waiting behind him.

"Friend," he said, thinking 'both'.

The eye blinked, and 'spoke' again.

"What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

Mason turned and glared. He'd forgotten entirely where the reference was actually from, but he'd heard Blake mention it so much he knew it was some kind of movie thing. And he knew the correct response.

"God damnit, Blake,” he muttered, then raised his voice. “African, or European?"

The eye blinked.

"Hello, brother! This is basically an automated message. I made a construct that could recognize a human, so you didn't actually need to answer. But I bet you did, ha! Anyway, I figured if a human showed up it'd be you. Pretty cool, huh? Unless it isn't...that would actually be a little embarrassing.

“Listen, I guess I'm busy, but please be nice. I covered the actual door with this thing so you need to, I don’t know, punch your hand through it to interact with the dungeon. But seriously, these orcs are important, the lady is important, and you need to..."

Mason growled as he smashed his fist through the construct, touched the dungeon entrance, and accepted the prompt before the thing finished, and before the orcs behind him could decide what to do about it.