It turned out the town had a bit of a harbor.

Kaldalis tried to cut through the town as fast as he could to get to the beachside gate, but was struck by the sights and sounds of the newly-formed town.

Many of the facilities had turned into stone buildings. Sivima’s forge - and the rest of the crafting buildings - had become real workshops and storefronts. The mess hall tent had been replaced by a cafeteria that looked more like a food court, with both indoor and outdoor seating. There was the barest hint that the former tent remained in an awning over the outdoor area.

The living area had remained mostly tents, but the bulk of the expanded space of the town’s walls seemed to have been giving every tent a little more space.

There must have been housing mechanics at work. With materials, could he build a house here? Furniture?

But that would have to wait.

He had to get to that boat.

Because if he was right, someone was going to be looking for him.

Kaldalis burst through the beachside gate to find a whole bunch of people gathered, watching a huge ship swarming with sailors being guided up next to the pier.

He was shocked to see the pier itself. Forturns’ humble floating dock was now a huge pier stretching at least fifty feet out into the ocean. From there it took a sharp right turn, stretching out another fifty feet. The space beneath the dock was visibly packed with stone, which would dampen the ocean’s waves, letting the huge ship settle down as the sailors scuttled about, fastening lines and setting out the gangplank.

As soon as the gangplank hit the pier, a flood of people rushed out of the boat. Dozens. Maybe hundreds.

Kaldalis could tell they were adventurers. Some of them looked geared up and ready to rock - he assumed these were the people who had missed the first boat and had been left in Baimer - but there were dozens in starter gear, fresh-faced and full of excited naivete. The new people.

That’s the group he was looking for.

He tried to pick faces out of the crowd, but he wasn’t entirely sure for what. If Nakala was here, she wasn’t going to look like Nakala, right? It meant he was kind of stuck waiting for her to find him.

Kaldalis pushed his way through the crowd at the pier. Most of the group had dispersed once the boat finished landing - apparently they were only there to see if the thing crashed - and so Kaldalis found himself waiting almost alone where the pier met the grass at the edge of the beach.

A few people noticed him as they walked by, and more than a few of the people in starter gear gave a wave, or said his name as they passed. That wasn’t unexpected. As a streamer, he knew he had an audience, and some amount of that audience was among the new folks joining the expedition.

What was unexpected, though, was the Vathon that emerged from the crowd and socked him in the arm so hard he almost fell over.

“Dyl-Kal-whatever!” she said with a big grin, even as she stumbled over the names. “How the hell have you been?”

“Naka-whatever,” Kaldalis said, returning her grin. “I’d recognize you anywhere.”

It was a lie, of course.

She didn’t look anything like Nakala. Her skin was a dark indigo, and while her black hair was kinked and curly, it was long, tied back in a messy ponytail that Nakala’s real life hair would never have stood for. Her horns were almost a mirror of his own, swept-back with a gentle curve. She was dressed in the starter leather armor of a damage dealer, showing off her figure as a more classical Vathon hourglass than Kaldalis’s own barrel chest.

Nakala was also nearly a match for him, height-wise, which was very much unlike their dynamic in the real world.

“Fucking copycat,” he said, though he couldn’t stop grinning. He didn’t know why, but it was really good to see her.

“Yeah, that’s on purpose, idiot,” Nakala shot back, sticking her tongue out at him. “This way if we have to roleplay, I can be your sister and people won’t think we’re fucking.”

“Good plan, sis,” Kaldalis said, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her into a headlock. He noogied her scalp with one knuckle - but was careful to avoid the horns, knowing how sensitive they were. “Now I can get away with bullying you all I want and nobody will call me out.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, blue boy.” She socked him in the gut hard enough to force him to let go, but not hard enough to make him double over in pain. “But this means you’re stuck with me forever.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want me locking myself in this fucking game to have been for nothing,” Kaldalis said, rubbing his stomach as Nakala fixed her hair. “So we did it. You’re here.”

“Yeah,” Nakala said, wistfully. “Oh, right, and I’m Reno again now.”

“You fucking fangirl,” Kaldalis said.

The irony was not lost on him, given his own name.

“Yeah, yeah,” Reno snorted. “Whatever. But there was no other way anyone on the outside was going to be able to find me. Same as you, Kaldalis.”

“Fine, whatever,” Kaldalis laughed. “I just have to get over having another sister suddenly.”

“As you’re grappling with that, I’d like to introduce you to a new friend,” Nakala said with a grin, looking over her shoulder and beckoning over someone Kaldalis hadn’t noticed standing nearby. “Or an old one, if you like.”

“Uh,” Kaldalis said, suddenly uncomfortable at having been ambushed. “Hi?”

She was a Finnian. Most obviously, she was a damage dealer as well from her leather armor, but unlike Reno’s, the armor was more concealing on a Finnian, with artfully placed pteruges off her shoulders and hips to obscure what would have otherwise been titillating if hugged closely by the leather. Her skin was much lighter than most Finnians he’d seen, almost paper-white, with just the barest silver sheen. The woman’s hair was long and dark, almost impossibly straight and even, cascading down to just above her shoulders in a style that was almost familiar to Kaldalis. She was tall, but Kaldalis had learned that was a common quality among Finnian women; she was taller than Aurigeant, but maybe a hair shorter than Heluna. Still about two inches shorter than Kaldalis, though.

“It’s, uh,” she stammered. “Been a while, I guess.”

“Well, it’s great to see you again, uh…” He trailed off, hoping to prompt her to reveal her name.

“I’m…” She flushed. Finnian blushing appeared to be taking on more a darker gray hue rather than turning red. “I wasn’t allowed to pick a different name, and now I feel really stupid.”

Reno stepped forward, almost protectively. “Do you want me…?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” the Finnian woman said, taking a deep breath. “I’m SeventyEight.”

Kaldalis felt his heart stop in his chest.

SeventyEight was a literal celebrity.

Monsoon royalty, some might say.

He had actually been a fan of her RTS pro career back in his college days.

Meeting her in person - well, ‘in person’ - was, at the same time, terrifying, and a dream.

“Um,” Kaldalis said. He suddenly realized his vision was funneling down into a narrow tunnel, and took a few deep breaths, trying to force himself to not freak out. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m a big fan. Like… A huge fan. Your win over NineNineNine at the global finals was outrageous. I still think about that flank in game five-”

Reno burst out laughing. Not just her usual cackle. Instead, she was clutching her sides and staggered sideways. She looked up at him and pointed feebly as she dissolved into gales of laughter.

Tears were streaming down her face.

She tried to speak, but all that she managed to push out was weak wheezing sounds.

“It’s not that funny,” SeventyEight said, crossing her arms.

“She-” Reno managed before it was lost to laughter.

SeventyEight ignored her. “So, we’ve met before. In person. A lot, actually.”

Kaldalis blinked. “Uh, what?”

“Yeah. Um. You probably know me better as Amy. Amy Hong.”

An explosion of noise and silence shattered Kaldalis’ world.

Amy Hong.

His favorite waitress at his favorite restaurant. She had been his esports idol the whole time?

“That is a surprise,” Kaldalis managed to say in a dull tone. “I did not know that, nor did I ever expect it.”

SeventyEight sighed. “I know. I don’t like talking about it because…” She held up her hand, showing him the back of it. It took Kaldalis a minute to realize she was reflexively showing off the mangled scar that she had in real life, but hadn’t been carried over to the game world. “That’s why I stopped playing - and why I’m stuck waitressing. I dropped out of school to chase my dream, so I didn’t have an education to fall back on after the accident.”

“I, uh...” Kaldalis tried to reconcile a lot of different things at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s embarrassing,” SeventyEight said, putting a hand over her face. “I gambled my life away. Every opportunity I had in life I gave up for a hundred grand in tourney prizes that I mostly had to funnel back into travel costs for those same tournaments. And medical bills. It’s only been like eight years since the accident and almost every cent is gone. All I have to show for my mistake is a handful of trophies and the occasional bone Monsoon throws to me to use my name for marketing.”

“It’s, um...” But that was all he had.

Kaldalis tried to realign his mental perception. He had to see her not as SeventyEight, but as Amy. She was a celebrity, sure, and that was going to take some adjustment, but she was also his friend, on a new character in a world where he had some experience with the rules. “It’s great to see you,” he said at last, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you know already, but I’m Kaldalis. And if you need any help, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” SeventyEight said, with a quirked eyebrow and a thin smile.

“There’s just one more thing,” Kaldalis said, turning on Reno, who was gasping for breath after recovering from her laughing fit. “Did you fucking know about this?”

“Not even for a second,” she wheezed. “I’m just a developer, I’ve never even spoken to the esports side of the dev team, let alone any of the actual talent.”

“Okay. Whatever. It’s fine.” Kaldalis took a deep breath. “Water under the bridge. No use crying over spilled alter-ego.”

He rubbed at his forehead and then looked towards the dock. The new arrivals were filing off the pier, past the reunited trio, and into town.

Kaldalis saw a few people who didn’t look like adventurers among the stream of new players. Some looked like farmers. Others looked like crafters or shopkeepers. Homesteaders, maybe? More NPCs to replace those lost? He didn’t know.

There was one group that brought up the rear that Kaldalis instantly knew what to expect from. Three men walked together. They were in fine clothing, bedecked with jewelry and visibly thick make up. The three of them were accompanied by a pair of men in heavy armor, walking with giant halberds.

“Shit,” Kaldalis said, “that’s going to be a problem.”

“What?” SeventyEight asked, following his eyes to the nobles and their bodyguard escort.

“Those are diplomats from Baimer,” Kaldalis said, “they have to be. That’s a problem. A big one.”

“Why?” Reno asked, finally composing herself. “What happened?”

“Long story,” Kaldalis said, “but the short version is that due to a clerical error we’re not in Zara anymore. Contanaku is independent territory.”

“Uh,” Reno said. “That’s probably fine.”

“It’s not your problem,” Kaldalis said with a grimace, “but it might end up being mine.”

“You there,” a man said, coming down the pier. “Boy!”

Kaldalis looked back up the pier at the man. He was an older Human man, a bit rotund with a large handlebar moustache, dressed in a huge red coat and a big feather-plumed tricorn hat that looked right out of a cartoon.

“I guess you mean me,” Kaldalis said. “What’s the problem?”

“I’ve been told to report to the ranking marine officer,” the man said. Despite his light jog and enormous gut, he wasn’t out of breath in the slightest. “Where might I find Captain Filomena?”

Kaldalis took a moment to imagine this big old man being outranked by that wiseass troll of a woman who sailed the Persimmon. He had to push the thought aside to avoid busting out laughing in his face.

“She’s actually on the town’s council,” Kaldalis said quickly, “in a meeting with the new expedition leader.” He pointed towards the town hall, where he assumed they had gathered. “If you follow those stuffy noble-looking dudes and their guards, they’re probably heading right there.” He adjusted his hand and pointed instead down towards the lumber yard at the other side of town. “If you want a more private meeting, the sailors have secured that part of town for their own, and her quarters are in the building that looks like it was carved off the back of her ship. Because it was.”

“Thank you kindly, boy,” the man said with a hearty laugh, slapping Kaldalis on the back. “I hope to see more of you on this expedition. I’m to oversee the scouting and securing of the next foothold on the islands in two days time. I’ll be quite disappointed if I don’t see such a helpful soul as you on the manifest when we ship out!”

Kaldalis suddenly had a lot more questions, but the man broke back into his light jog as he went into town.

Another foothold? Did that mean founding another camp? Working on building up another town? It sounded like an endeavor that was well-suited to the new players just joining them, and also a task that would need a handful of more experienced folks to help guide them. On the other hand, there was still so much to do here in Contanaku.

And with his real-world friends here, who needed his help, the choice wasn’t entirely up to him.

“Uh, so,” Kaldalis said, turning back to Reno and SeventyEight. “Where we dropping, boys?”