Carson looked about the room, taking in the mass of skeletal remains and then looking past them for anything else that could help explain the riddle. There wasn’t much, but he scanned carefully and caught a glint beneath one of the skeletal remains. “Hey, there’s something over here.” He moved behind Erramir, crossing the room toward the shine.

As he closed on it, the density of bones increased until there was no free space on the ground. Instead of walking on them, he toed bones aside to make room for each step.

The reflection resolved into a curved shape tucked in the corner behind its previous owner’s remains–the humanoid creature had died sitting on it.

He cautiously slipped a hand between the ex-owner and his neighbor and jostled it free, careful to not topple the skeleton. The object was a metal crescent with a one-inch hole in the center, a flat, narrow chisel on one end, and a point on the other. “It’s the head of a pickaxe.” Carson held it up for the others to see.

“Humm.” Val mused, her eyes scanning the room for anything similar. “Look there”–she pointed–“and there, and there.” In each of the three spots, the floor had a blackish shadow of dust shaped like a crescent. “These people were miners.”

As Val said this, she remembered the notification and opened it.

Congratulations! You have discovered a Lost Mine.

Experience gained: 1000

“Yep. We got a notification and XP for discovering a Lost Mine.”

Erramir realized for the first time that none of the skeletons had any armor. These hadn’t been fighters. “Miners that got in over their heads,” he said.

“Yeah, like deep end of the ocean over their heads,” Carson quipped as he tip-toed back to them. “I wonder why they stayed here? Why not flee? If you’re right, Err, whatever did this wasn’t interested in leaving this structure.”

Erramir was wondering the same thing. The story of this room wasn’t one of a battle. By all appearances, they’d just sat down and died. Why would anyone do that? Erramir could think of only one reason, and it sent a chill through him.

Reluctantly, he shared the insight. “Whatever did this, maybe all it wanted was them.” He indicated the skeletons. “And maybe they knew that. So, they stayed here even though they could have run... sacrificed themselves in the hope that it, whatever it was, would return underground after they were all dead.”

“Ah hell, that’s dark,” Carson grumbled. “But you’re probably right. I suppose they could have been poisoned or gassed too, but that doesn’t make any more sense than your theory.”

Val nodded in agreement. “Yeah, are we sure we want to go down there?”

“I don’t see why not,” Erramir said. “We are essentially immortal, and this is smack dab in the middle of the quest area. We’re going to have to explore it eventually. Besides, it’s been more than a thousand years since this all went down. It may have gone back down there, but I can’t imagine something hanging around for that long. It’s probably long gone.”

He looked down into the dark descent. “I’m sure there’s other nasty stuff down there, but I seriously doubt it’ll be whatever did this. It could also be the source of the corruption that we need to cleanse.”

He paused and shrugged. “I think we have to go down. What kind of gamers would we be if we didn’t?”

Val shook her head and looked into the darkness. “I completely forgot. It’s so hard to remember this is a game. I can’t even tell the difference between this and reality. Honestly, I feel more alive here.”

She smiled at Carson. “At least one of us has tested the respawn feature and can verify that it works.”

“Yah! It works, all right. I can also strongly advise against being eaten by wolves feet first.”

Val grimaced. “Ungh, seriously? That happened?”

He nodded with a sour grin. “Oh yeah, twice. Well, the first time was more face-first, not much of an improvement there. But the second was definitely a dark take on the old woodchipper horror stories. Eaten by wolves feet first doesn’t sound quite as gruesome… but given a choice, opting out is definitely the smart bet.” He shivered at the memory.

“Alright, on that disturbing note, shall we head down?” Erramir said and motioned for Val to lead. Even as he did, he began to reconsider, thinking it would be best if he went first.

Before he could say anything, Val did. “Ahh, nope. Sorry. Not gonna happen.”

“Yeah, I agree. Things have changed since we created our initial battle plan.”

Val nodded emphatically. “Damn right they have. Not only do we have armor, but you’ve also got that big shield and your new Spidey Sense.”

“That’s right,” Erramir said with a smile. “I almost forget about that.” His smile turned into a manic grin that he directed toward his two less durable friends. “I’m happy to take the lead; out in front, right in the thick of things, toe-to-toe with all the nasties.” He chuckled. “Oh yeah, baby. Feels good to be the tank again.”

Carson looked at him in bewilderment. “I just don’t get this part of you, bro. It’s fucking weird, honestly.” He held up his hands. “But whatever. I’m just glad to have a willing and capable meat shield.”

“Don’t you forget it,” Erramir said. “You just remember to bring the pain while I keep them good and pissed off at me.” A thought suddenly struck him. “You think you might be able to figure out some kind of a heal spell?”

Carson tilted his head. “Huh, that’s a damn good question.”

After a moment of silence, Erramir clarified, “What if my health drops below half mid-fight? Would that be a sufficient need for you to puzzle out a healing spell?”

Carson blinked and looked dumbly at him. Erramir was pretty sure the mage was deep in thought, not being an ass, so he waited patiently.

“I have no idea,” Carson finally said. “I don’t even know where to start with a healing weave. I knew where to start with Ice Volt cause of Val, and the heating spell was simple. But healing?” He raised his shoulders, palms turned out. “No clue.”

“Why not? Don’t the elements help you figure it out?”

Carson shook his head. “Not like that. They don’t, like, whisper in my ear. I need to have some idea what I’m doing. I mean, think about it. What elements specifically would heal your body? Pretty much all of them, right? But which one is the most important?”

Carson pulled essence into a weave that Erramir could only vaguely see. “If I get the water-to-wind ratio slightly wrong in Ice Volt, I might get just a slightly larger, slower-moving projectile. Or a smaller, faster one.” The weave dispersed without doing anything. “But that’d be trial and error during a fight, won’t work right now, remember.”

Carson looked at Erramir. “What happens if I get the ratio wrong on your body? And, if I weave a healing spell around my core essence, would I end up having soul sex with whoever I cast it on?” Carson shook his head again. “Noo, thank you. There’s no way I could hold the weave if that happened. Besides, I have zero interest in experiencing that with you.”

Erramir was glad for the explanation. With True Sight, he could see essential energies but couldn’t tell them apart or interpret their purpose. Meaning that he couldn’t tell the difference between weaves; to Erramir, they all looked the same. But Carson’s point rang true; Kuora wasn’t designed to be simple–it was designed to make people engage.

“Okay, you convinced me. Please don’t try and heal me unless there is absolutely no other choice, and I’m going to die.”

Carson’s mood swung like a wind vane touched by a cold front. “Can do!” He smiled impishly and gave Erramir a thumbs up.

Val chortled, then clarified their plan. “I’ll bring up the rear, and we can put squish ball here in the middle.” She waved at Carson.

“DPS is supposed to be squishy,” he proudly replied. “It’s part of the class.” Then pointed with both hands at Val and Erramir. “You guys need to protect me. That’s part of your classes.”

“Not so fast there powder-puff,” Val said. “Depending on the fight, like if we get in a tight space, you might need to focus on a defensive spell so I can do damage.”

Carson rolled his head. “Right, fine. If that happens, I’ll work on a shield spell or something.”

“Good point, Val,” Erramir said. “Alright, let’s go. And try to keep up. I can’t protect you if you fall behind.”

“No worries. I’m right on your heels,” Carson chimed in merrily. “I’ve also got a cool idea for an earth spell.” He rubbed his hands together eagerly. “It’ll impale mobs with stone spikes. I can’t wait to try it.”

Erramir shot a stern look over his shoulder at the mage. “As long as you remember to throw the damage if I’m getting creamed. If it gets rough down there, I want to see a veritable wall of Ice Volts descending on the mobs. Don’t hang me out to dry just so you can experiment.”

Carson mocked offense with a hand on his chest. “Who me? Never. Besides, who’s dominated the DPS charts in every guild we’ve ever run and has two thumbs?” He grinned like a goon and thumbed both hands back at himself. “This guy, that’s who.”

It was true that Carson had a freakish capacity to rule the DPS charts, but somehow that didn’t mollify Erramir. He grumbled begrudgingly then said, “Right, I know, so that’s what I want to see. No unnecessary experimenting with cool spells when your buddy’s ass is on the line. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re clear. Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

His tone didn’t inspire confidence. But in the end, Erramir trusted Carson’s ability, and he was anxious to mix it up with some mobs.

There was just something about being out front and leading the way that appealed to him.

Erramir could already tell Kuora would reward players like the three of them, players who dug into games, understood them, ferreted out unique skill mixes, and grew based upon insight and ability. That wasn’t totally different from other games, but here there were no limits

In Kuora, the role you filled was determined by what you actually did. Not by code on the backend that automatically made you tougher if you chose warrior from a menu or gave thieves bonuses when they wore leather. The Kuoran system, from what they’d seen so far, allowed you all the flexibility you were capable of handling.

Erramir snapped out of his reflection and focused on Carson. With a nod he headed down the stone stairs. There were white marks on every second or third step. At least we’re not the first empty heads down these steps today.