Galacia Minor LXVI, in the Arturian Multiverse, is a Juno-Minor-sized planet of nothing but atmosphere in which dwell countless skymountains. Each skymountain is of a different size, however slight, and has its own range of climates. And each said skymountain is ruled by a Mountain Lord. Mountain Lords here buy and trade off of each other, functioning in a, what I seem to figure, seemingly late-stage capitalist free market. The population here is a mixture of avatars and independently-functioning daemons. And transportation here consists of spaceships like my own, which I bought a rather cheap one recently, as well as gyroplanes similar to the real-world ones, and of course the generational degrees of airships and sail-powered airships. Unlike our world, there are also rope-cable-car travel networks.
I have spent a good deal of time on a particular skymountain called Mount Muritan Major, where I had been tasked with ridding the place of a nefarious "squatter."
Mount Muritan Major is owned by the organization: the Muritan Guild. In the lower section of the skymountain lies a lake, which resides in a permanent temperate summer zone. Along the bank across the lake from the towering Mountain Summit stood recently-built cabins, where it was determined the said squatter lurked.
Initially, the squatter group sought asylum here, claiming that they had been persecuted by the rulers of the neighboring Mount Dorrin. The Muritanian leaders granted them asylum, but soon after, they began receiving reports of Muritan Guild dwellings being burglarized and road-travelers being robbed. A spy sent by the Muritanian Lord discovered that the squatters were actually insiders serving Mount Dorrin, trying to infiltrate Muritan and subjugate its territory under Dorrinian rule.
So my avatar, Nix, accepted an assignment to sneak up on and assassinate the leader of the squatters. Nix was already well-trained in concealment, melee combat, and spellfire combat. So he found the cabin housing the nefarious leader, and discovered that it contained a secret passageway leading to an Underworld-like dungeon where there lay a hot-drake, the true form of this leader. I realized that I needed an army to overcome this thing, so, luckily still concealed, I retreated back out, to the outside, and up to the Great Cabin where housed the Muritanian Guild Leader, to whom I reported and asked for my army. The Guild Leader gave me, at best, fifteen avatars and seventeen daemons to command. Disappointed but nonetheless determined, I led them back to the squatter cabin cluster. Figuring that we could not all conceal ourselves, I led a command to attack them head on and fight our way back to the hot-drake. Ten of my army fell, but I figured that with still twelve remaining, we still had a fighting chance against the enemy leader. After a great deal fighting, we slew the drake. Three avatars fell, but they had incredible resurrection capabilities, so that there were still twelve of us standing yet.
As it turned out, the drake was hoarding all of the stolen wealth, all of it in a deceptively small chest. However, feeling that I had to be the first to look inside, I sent the other twenty-one questors looking in other parts of the lair for a while. During that time, I opened the chest and found a piece of paper inside atop the wealth. I secretly pocketed that paper, determined never to show the questors or the Guild Leader. In the meantime, we determined that the chest the only place that contained the stolen wealth; and so, according to Guild protocol, we transported it back to the Guild Leader and left them to decide the dividends of the quest spoils. Ultimately, we, each, got compensation equivalent to an equal share, while the actual wealth was returned to its rightful owners.
I had, upon my arrival here, been assigned a private dwelling. And this proved lucky, for I was able, in secrecy, to open the folded paper I found in the chest and read its contents. Written was a very long and poetic explanation, which I will not repeat word-for-word here but will give a summary. The note dealt solely with affairs of the real world outside Arturia, touching largely upon the very same type of grievances, primarily corruption and self-interest like with Ron and Helen, regarding Cabotton and Third Level Society politics experienced by myself. But the note went further to explain that these issues were commonplace across multiple organizations, especially those dealing with dymensional planecrafting. The narrator emphasized that a certain Pageturner Guild was most notorious for this, outwardly inciting division in order to keep their apparent opposition subdued.
According to the note, this was cause for "everyone to unite and, through any and all necessary measures, secure for themselves the freedom we so deserve."
"To the reader of this letter, should you answer this call," it concluded, "you must keep this away from the prying eyes of the general public, whom you should not trust. And you must commit without question. You will receive further instructions, should you arrive at my location at 321 Route of the Roses in the Ancondrian city of Kearney. And you shall do so no earlier than 2 January, no later than 23 January of the year 1341...With the Best Regards: Your Master Pagewriter."
***
I had never had a close conversation with the Third Level Society Dungeonmaster: Amanda Korgan. But nonetheless, I decided to go to her directly about the above letter. The Pagewriter-vs-Pageturner conflict had been a major issue during the twenty years ago, back during the Neurovirus Pandemic and the days of Combria and Gymia fighting against the Commonwealth as their own country. The pandemic has since subsided while Combria and Gymia have since rejoined the Commonwealth. But while people assumed that the out-of-control politics between the two Guilds had subsided as well, I have come to realize that it is not wise to assume the latter.
Immediately upon reading the note, which I was able to convert from the Arturian Realm to our world on a similar-looking piece of paper, Korgan jumped right to the issue of Albin Gene. "We crossed paths very briefly," she said. "He was on his way out as I was on my way in. And I thought him the strangest individual."
"I heard that he was apparently under the influence of having a 'calling to be a leader' or something like that?" I ventured.
Korgan chuckled a little. "That...and moreover his delusions. I remember how he was obsessing romantically over some Arturian character, unsure if it was an avatar or not. Regardless, he convinced himself that she was a real person...My worry, though, for this note you gave me, is that he has now convinced himself that he is the Master Pagewriter. Obviously that is false, but that, combined with his rumored talent in the unlawful field of oathcrafting, makes this man as dangerous as he is strange. He must be stopped!"
"Is that my assignment?" I asked, half-jokingly.
"Actually yes," she said, after a pause. "Since you're seemingly the first person here who is aware. Also, I would very much like to avoid publicity with this. However, I need you to bring a friend. And I need you to be careful; go to his address like the note asks, just claim you and the friend found the note together, but both of you need to simply observe the man and find a way to stop him in the most practical way possible before you act."
"I'll think on this," I said. "But first, I need to find someone I can deem a trustworthy friend."
My mind was already made up, though. I've still been looking for a reason to leave this place. And I knew exactly who to ask: Pat Middleton.
"But this might be more dangerous than we think," Pat said to me when I met with him and showed the letter. "Amanda says oathcrafting, and I say the same. But how do we know we're safe."
"Honestly," I replied. "I haven't figured that out yet. But I'm willing to get to the bottom of this because I'm with others who may be influenced."
"You just want to leave here, don't you..."
"Maybe for a time. Also, I feel that perhaps doing what I feel right now is a good deed could restore my moral reputation here." And I did feel honest saying that.
Pat sighed. "Very well. I'll go with you, but only because you don't seem to know what the hell you're doing."