Pat, once again, advised me to recall, in written story format, everything that happened between now and my last entry made three days ago. So here I go.
***
It all started the following morning, January 5th I believe. Pat and I had received a message from the dymensional plane group in the Salon, asking for help in trying out avatars for the Ancondrian plane. Pat and I more than obliged. But it was a strange experience for me. The world in which my hurriedly-made avatar immersed felt too real to me. The sensation was bolstered when, after my avatar fell and scraped their knee, I discovered, after exiting the plane, that my knee was scraped as well. I was so emotionally jarred by this perceived trip in my thinking and perception, that I decided to take a break and spend a few moments in the Great Foyer. There, Albin grabbed my attention.
"Are you alright?" he said, touching my shoulder. "I know. You must be confused. I saw through the console...Come. I got something to ease your mind." He pulled me into a side room from the Foyer. And here, he showed me something I initially felt would hardly ease my mind at all.
It was "Agridbea," a card game based off of the practice of Spellfire Dueling. It was not a game I was strongly familiar with. But what I did know was that it was something having been played since the 1030s, and that its etymology was derived from the name of the nation, Agridbea, where nearly 3000 years of constant warfare between Conjurers led to the emergence of a profession of tactical dynamics.
Albin could tell I was not quite familiar; so he showed me the ropes. Accordingly, the game is played between two individuals, each of whom has an avatar card set. Each set contains one Arch-Chancellor, two Chancellors, four Conjurers, eight Casters, and sixteen Fighters, totaling thirty-one cards. There are, accordingly, two statuses that each avatar card can be in: "deployed" or "in-reserve." And each player was allowed to have as many avatars "deployed" or "in-reserve" as they best saw fit for their particular strategy, and can move any or a multitude of avatars between said statuses as willed.
The objective of the game is for each player to eliminate all cards of the opposing player. This is done by having the "deployed" avatars cast a particular spell against the opposing side, with hit point damage determined by the following dice rolls: two red dice rolled by the attacking side to calculate damage points generated against the other side, and two blue dice rolled by the defending side to calculate shield points against the attack. The blue points would then be subtracted from the red points to determine the net damage points. If the number of red points was higher than the blue, damage would be done on the defending side. If the blue points were equal to or higher than the red points, then the defending side would sustain no damage. For each generation of blue points and red points, the actual points generated was equal to the sum of rolled dice points times the number of "deployed" Fighters, the same dice points times the number of "deployed" Casters times two, the same dice points times the number of "deployed" Conjurers times four, the number of "deployed" Chancellors times eight, and the Arch-Chancellor (if "deployed") times sixteen. The net hit points, if any, would be divided as evenly as possible among the total number of "deployed" avatars on your side if you were the defending side, while a tally would be kept, tracking particular avatars and their remaining hit points. In this type of game, there is no opportunity for hit point regeneration, so the game is very survivalist in nature. And in the end, whichever side eliminates the Arch-Chancellor of the other side wins.
Per tradition, Albin and I agreed to play two rounds. Also per tradition, I, as the guest, made the wager for Round One: 600.00 credits. Accordingly per tradition, Albin, counter to my making of the wager, made the first move. I started with the deployment of two Fighters, who took hits. On my turn, I hit back, giving equal net damage to Albin, who had also deployed two Fighters. Albin struck back, causing both of my deployed Fighters to go down; so I deployed two more Fighters and hit back. This downed both of Albin's Fighters, to which he responded by deploying two Casters and a Conjurer. I was leery against matching him, even though my shield points blocked his damage. So I decided to have only one Caster join my two Fighters. That turn did significant damage to Albin's side, despite his stronger presence.
And so Round One continued. And before long, Albin was down just to his one Arch-Chancellor, which I defeated with a final blow. Per tradition, Albin handed over to me the 600.00 credits in hard cash. "Well, that took only thirty minutes," he told me. "Usually, this sort of thing takes hours." That remark dealt me a great deal of confusion because it seemed way shorter than even thirty minutes.
Regardless, we began Round Two.
"Your little souvenir," Albin announced as the wager.
"The...gyroscope thing?" I stammered.
"The very same one Pat said you purchased in Kronoston."
"How do you...? When...?"
"I'm sorry..?" Albin said sweetly, putting his chin in his left palm.
"Right," I said. "Onto Round Two, then."
Round Two was very much like Round One; except it was Albin winning, not myself. And it only felt like three minutes passed before my Arch-Chancellor went down.
"It's back in your room, isn't it," Albin said, getting up from his chair and going to the door. He opened it and called out to Pat. "The gift Nix got in Kronoston. It's due." He returned to his seat across the table from me and added, "You look awfully sad to be parting from that. You must be craving another Round...Oh what the hell? Best of three?"
"I'll go for it," was the answer that slipped from my mouth.
"Splendid!" Albin shouted with a dramatic clap of his hands. "And I'll give you an open choice. You can either wager your souvenir back from me...or you can wager something else..."
The alternative was obvious to me...too obvious. In normal circumstances, I would have avoided the most obvious choice for fear of playing into a trap. But the impulse, the drive, was too strong for me. And for some reason, one that I could not logically explain, I felt confident that I was safe. "Your spellcrafter cross," I said. "The one you got from Kontacet."
For a second, I felt a strong sense that I had made the wrong move, for Albin gave me a most condescending smirk. But then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the very same coin-like object I saw upon our first encounter.
"You mean Schraber?" Albin said.
Along my fear and confusion, I felt a wave of realization, of confirmation, and also of intense horror. Pat was right. He was right, and Albin chose to sway him in order to-
"No worries, my friend," Albin said. "I am not the criminal here. In fact, I am a good man. You could argue that I have a heart of gold, for I am not the guilty party having stolen this. I am protecting it for the Kontacet family. In fact, tomorrow, I will fly you back to Combria. We can take Mr Kontacet out to dinner, even." Albin put the cross back in his pocket. "Anyway, you have earned my trust; so you will have it in your possession should you win. Now lets play!"
Like in Round One, Albin took the first turn. The hit points awarded were like Round Two though, with me getting weak rolls and him getting the stronger.
The door opened at one point, revealing Pat, who tossed my gyroscope over. Albin caught it with his left hand and a "thank you," before dealing me another strong blow.
I realized that I was losing Round Three. I was not yet down to the Arch-Chancellor, but all my Fighters were down, all my Casters were down, nearly all my Conjurers were down. And I had both my Chancellors and Arch-Chancellor "in-reserve," but felt that I was going to be forced to deploy them soon.
Then, fortune turned. I noticed that Albin's rolls started getting weaker while mine started getting stronger. I began wiping out Albin's bigger players. Then he deployed his remaining players, including his Arch-Chancellor. Confident, I deployed my remaining cards.
Albin struck out my remaining Conjurer and one of my Chancellors, leaving my other Chancellor and my Arch-Chancellor the only ones standing. I rolled against Albin's side, striking down all of his cards except his one remaining Arch-Chancellor. He struck back, downing my Chancellor and leaving me, also, with my Arch-Chancellor alone. My next turn, I struck against his but it was not enough. Albin returned the blow, bringing mine critically close going down.
And then I got lucky. I delivered the final blow. Albin's Arch-Chancellor went down.
Albin laughed and laughed. "Not bad for a rookie," he said. Then he casually took out his spellcrafter cross and tossed it to me.
It felt too easy for me, though, despite Round Three feeling like a fair and even match. I looked at the spellcrafter cross...stolen property. However, it felt like a dud. It was not the weight nor the appearance, nor the feel. But something, in the back of my mind, felt like this was not genuine.
"You might want to double-check with Pat out there," Albin said to me. "He's gone outside and seems to be disoriented, under some oathcrafter influence of whoever is responsible."
***
So I went out, making to cross the street back to our guest suite.
And there he was, Pat Middleton, having lost all common sense, standing in the middle of the avenue, which was dangerously busy by the way. I attempted to pull him off to the side but then he told me that he could not move because, apparently, the decorative street lights were actually surveillance cameras for the Retunian government to spy on us.
"Well no matter, Pat. Get out of the damn street!" I said through gritted teeth. I pulled him so hard that when we were on the sidewalk, we both tumbled over.
Gunshots rang out.
Pat and I took off down the sidewalk. There were hedges on the right side, and Pat pulled me into a gap in these, where he slapped me in the face.
"Snap out of it, man!" Pat said. "Don't you realize how deluded you are? We live in a totalitarian state. We need to escape, now that we are 'awakened.'"
"You mean like the Combrian Confederation?"
"The Retunian Commonwealth, you idiot! Look around you. This is reality!"
Looking out from the hedges, I saw that the street block was, indeed, surrounded by wired fences, gun mounts, and loudspeakers. For the life of me, I thought that this was the way of life in the former Combrian Confederation, before it fell eight years ago. I thought the Retunian Commonwealth was the free, progressive, and democratic society. That reality still felt strong in me, but the reality around me at this moment felt even more vivid.
I knew, then and there, that my mind was being influenced from somewhere, somehow. I glanced down at the spellcrafter cross given to me earlier. And I remembered, suddenly, a moment earlier last year when I attended a clinic on spellcrafter crosses given by a member of the Kontacet family at Cabotton University. The presenter had even given a brief overview on how to use spellcrafter crosses, saying that while they could be used to engage in oathcrafting, they could also be used for counter-oathcrafting. So I took my spellcrafter cross in my hand and, with only that memory of the clinic to go on, tried to engage the item and work out a counter-influence.
"It's a dud," Albin said to me, having appeared out of nowhere.
I looked around and realized that I was in the middle of what looked like a park, at night, standing as a beautiful landscape of lawns, sidewalks, and street lamps, all illuminated under the green glow of Juno Major. Pat was nowhere to be found.
"Focus, Nix," Albin continued. "That spellcrafter cross is a dud. It was given to me by a thief who stole the real one from me while I slept. And I didn't know who that was till just now. I know who it is, now, and we have to catch him. He's the one influencing Pat!"
"Where is Pat?" I asked.
"I don't know..."
Just then, I heard a splash of water from behind me. I turned around and saw Pat, wondering aimlessly into the water.
"No!" Albin exclaimed. We both ran in and pulled Pat out. Albin and I relayed the situation to him.
"Insider!" Pat shouted, punching Albin in the face. "Insider for the Retunian State!"
"No, Pat!" I said. "Albin is one of us." Then, on the fly, I added, "The thief is the insider!"
"Pat is convinced that the Commonwealth is apparently a totalitarian state, Nix," Albin told me. "We have to catch this thief! He's in downtown Kearney. Nix, you can have the real spellcrafter cross once all is said and done, but don't show it to Pat while he is in his current state of mind." Confused, I simply followed Albin's lead, trying to forget the memories I had from moments before.
The park was about two blocks away from the downtown avenue of Kearney, which was lined with wired fences, surveillance cameras, and police patrols. And now my head was swimming in confusion. I started asking, "Wait. What the-"
"No time to lose!," Albin stressed, tugging me along and pointing ahead. "There he is! Our man!" Up ahead walked a black bear. "That's right, he's a form-fitter." Albin turned to face me. "Listen. I will run up over to the other side of the street from him and distract him. While's he's crossing the street, you hit him with a stun spell. How does that sound?"
I reached into my right pocket and found my talisman. It was then that I realized that I was already wearing my talisman brace on my right hand. I picked up the talisman and mounted it accordingly. "Very well," I said.
"Good. Now let's do this quick, before the guards notice!"
Albin took off down the street and began shouting at the bear. As planned, the bear charged across the street toward him, and then I sent my stun toward him, striking the bear straight in the head and knocking him down. Unconscious, his form began turning back into that of a human as Albin and I ran towards him.
It was Pat.
"I don't understand!," I said aloud. "I thought he was with us!" It was then I realized that between here and the park, Pat had...disappeared.
"Pat was infiltrated," Albin explained. "The one that disappeared on us was the infiltrator in disguise. He infiltrated the real Pat, here, into form-fitting into a bear, and planted the spellcrafter cross on him." He pulled off the spellcrafter cross from Pat and handed it to me. I studied it and knew, for sure, that this was the one stolen from Kelvin Schraber, for it had the proper trademarks and serial numbers.
"Wait!" Albin said, snatching it from me and biting it. He tossed it back to me. "This is a dud too. But I need you to have it."
"Why-?"
"No time to explain! The infiltrator must be found and eliminated!"
Just then, bright lights shone upon us. It was the totalitarian police swarming around the three of us in their armored vehicles. Officers from each vehicle leapt out and drew their weapons.
Just then, with apparent madness and to my confusion, betrayal, and terror, Albin pointed to me. "HE'S THE ONE! HE'S THE INFILTRATOR!" And then the police shot Albin dead.
Pat and I were nicked, thrown into one of their armored vehicles, and transported to some sort of prison complex in an unknown location. We were never given our charges nor were we interrogated. In fact, none of the cops spoke to us. Pat and I, however, were placed in the same cell.
I glanced toward the hard, concrete floor of the cell, where there lay a lone plastic cutlery knife. No logic was present in my thinking in that moment, but I had a strong intuition that this would somehow be our method of escape.
"You're crazy," Pat said just then, as if he was reading my mind.
Nevertheless, I took the plastic knife and started attempting to saw through the concrete floor, which, to my complete confusion, began cutting easily like cake. Pat stooped down and helped to pull chunks away. And without explanation, the floor turned into an upright wall, through which Pat and I stumbled and ended up on the metal deck of a modern-day pirate ship.
Intuition drove Pat and I to find the outdoors, where we thought to escape by lifeboats. That, we did, but not before the pirates, armed with high-level talismans, spotted us and attempted to capture is. Thus, spellfire discharges ensued as we fought our way out.
But escaped we did, successfully jumping onto a lifeboat and launching it into the water. And now we had to make for land.
We would never do that, though, for we were then arrested by the Retunian Coast Guard.
***
As it turned out, Pat and I were found aboard a stolen lifeboat off a normal commercial trading ship in the Bay of Ramport. And it was at that point when we realized that the notion of the Retunian Commonwealth being a totalitarian regime was, in fact, just an illusion, triggered by oathcrafting.
The authorities realized that we were victims in this, rather than perpetrators, and that we both needed medical attention. So we were transported to the hospital in Ramport, where they removed our spellcaster items for our safety. It was at that point when we realized the spellcrafter cross I had in my possession was the real thing, just deactivated. After a round of questions, I revealed to them how Albin Gene was in possession of it and had given it to me.
Ultimately, the diagnoses for both me and Pat was that we had both been swayed very deeply by measures of oathcrafting, and most certainly so by Albin Gene. We gave to them the address of Gene's address, but, as it turned out, the address did not officially exist. However, the authorities were able to determine that it did exist unofficially, just within a patch of land hidden by spellfire concealment.
Regardless, that is my story. And I certainly hope that the reality I am in now is the reality, and not yet another one of Albin's cruel mind games.