Fountellion in THE SPIRAL: Greenwise & the Nature of the Game

A Fight in the Green Fields of Fountellion?

@NOTES FROM SUPER WORLDS : Entry by Dan Harvester

I've seen a lot of things... I've seen a player fighting the world. Trying to fight it; pitching everything against it – on a whim? Perhaps... Just testing themselves, against a system. 

Who hasn't, in the early days? But it's a risky move. And one which resulted with this player being kicked out – forcefully – from Fountellion.

What happened? Ok, this one time I was 'walking' back along the coast, south of the island, just enjoying the moment; the flux of everything; not using any powers. I was headed for the whispering corn; to listen there to see if it had anything more to say to me. Anything ancient or helpful to bring back to the Monastery; for at that time I was searching for Insights. But I saw something glint, further up above the long grass moving across the entire hillside. It had been a green glint I was sure, the sparkling green fire of powers being used within the game. It's funny how out of place our powers – or magic I suppose – seems in Fountellion. It's just as if you were suddenly to witness two figures dueling with magic in a field, back in the Source, on wonderfully sunny day beside an estuary of water glistening in from the sea. You'd think: Why? What can you be fighting about? There is already magic here, all around. And you're missing it. Anyway, this is what I saw. Green light glinting from above, and the heads of two figures facing one another, moving in gestures of casting and of focus.

It was, I suppose, the first time I'd seen any direct Player versus Player – and Player versus Environment fighting – in Fountellion, of all growing places. Was it an agent of chaos – The Falling? – perhaps challenging anything or anyone for the sake of a quick challenge, in some lazy mood or deviance from the main quest; the hardship of holding fast to its true path; the finding of the Insights... But I'll never know their reasons. There may not be any, beyond the simple wish to see a good thing harmed; damaged; breached. A cruelty that in the quick moment seems cruel perhaps but... is more to do with a need to control; be in control; to dominate. To not be helpless, within the laws of this land.

I quickly crouched down so as not to be seen. I would need something, small as a bird, to change into. I clasped my hands together and performed the necessary, speedy gesture, interlocking my fingers turned upwards, parting them into the air. At the same time I uttered the Latin keywords for the creature in mind.

If you have not yet learned to transform in the game, then this will all become second nature to you. I immediately shrunk inwards until I'd assumed the form of a very useful bird nearby; a robin red-breast. My tattoos lowered, especially Power. But there was enough to fling myself at the air towards the activity above the brow of the hill, darting swiftly and landing on a pine tree branch, where I could look down and survey the scene. With quick shifts in vision I picked up movement and the two figures, currently still waist-high in the tall grass. I determined that one of them was, in fact, the Guardian, Greenwise (and was not that surprised, since this was his home region). 

But I was surprised to see how we was engaged in combat defence against another player, who was dressed all in black. They both wore cloaks, so it was brown against black.

"Stop your attacks, I'm warning you, for the last time." Something like this. It was the only exchange I heard. "You can still... get out of this..."

The battle didn't last long. I only have some brief, resonant images in my mind. And they are enough really, to indicate, to my bird vision, just how long and brutal the duel might already have lasted. Brutal, yes. But maybe not very long.

The Guardian's hair – his avatar's - was unkempt, and his brown cloak too, ragged and torn. Any significant energy use in the game triggers such visual effects on a player's appearance. The black-cloaked figure also looked tired – but more desperate – and had leapt in the air by way of the 'focus mode'; a great leap. Then he had transformed into a large, ragged rook or crow that swiftly started to descend back down again towards the brown-cloaked avatar, who braced itself. Sparks of green fire accompanied this rapid transformation – from the burning of power; the cause of the glinting I had seen. But Greenwise raised his wooden staff at the last moment and struck down the dangerous bird with a shout so that it reeled backwards. It was sent rolling to the ground where it changed back swiftly into a human figure again – from further energy loss – and became just this crumpled heap of a man still moving; threatening to rise again.