NOVEL NEXT Chapter 25: Avatars
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Randoon_the_Wizard: I made an avatar once. It followed my friend's girlfriend around and barked whenever danger was near.
Big_Iron: Transfiguration specialist? Let me guess: named Lassie?
Randoon_the_Wizard: I feel seen.
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Sunday, November 10th, 2091, about 11:00 am MST, Ghostlands, Kingdoms Server, Far Gate (14,004 viewing)
Ghostlands, as part of its fundamental design philosophy, attempted to avoid the use of menus and pop-ups wherever possible. The system announcements log was togglable, damage indicators defaulted to 'off', identify skills returned an internal conceptual thought instead of an item card—if you had the right hardware—etc. Much of the time, touching something and mentally focusing on the word associated with its use was enough to activate it. This was how magic wands worked: after learning a spell name, the player could perform the correct activation gestures to cast the spell with the desired vector, magnitude, and duration. For items with stored skills—like spell scrolls, powders used to draw sigils, or enchanted objects—using or activating them was sufficient because all variables were predefined.
Larger devices, however, operated differently. The Far Gate, a massive transparent pane of ice filling the entire space within its colossal frame, was one such device. Designed for player use, it required activation, but with too many variables to follow the usual Ghostlands philosophy. Unlike spells, which encoded variables through in-game rituals or chants, the Far Gate broke immersion entirely. When Gordon activated it, white text floated within the ice, asking for details: which server, which avatar, how long, and so on.
Having never finalized his avatar before, Gordon could still summon his avatar draft. He did so.
He had pre-named it Gallant. As the gate shimmered, the name displayed in elegant glowing white letters briefly, before Gallant himself emerged, much like the doppelgängers had, and then he was standing there among them.
It was easy to forget how tall Gordon was when he lounged about in a cowboy slouch, but the man in armor seemed massive.
Gallant matched Gordon's height, nearly six feet two, with a broad, T-shaped frame like a football player. His mid-length brown hair was styled to fall freely, better matching the medieval aesthetic of the heavy plate armor he wore. This armor had been a serious investment. When Gordon first conceived Gallant, he had considered combining the speed of a gunslinger with the agility of a swashbuckler. But swashbuckling required heavy investment in Wit and Wiles, social stats better suited for charismatic rogues or spellcasters. Since Gordon did his own role playing and disliked the idea of investing in social stats, he would largely get no benefits out of it, he'd changed direction.
Instead, Gordon's respec had focused on Grit, the primary stat for knights and tanks. High Grit allowed Gallant to equip heavy armor, which had a base armor class of 10–12 compared to standard armor's 6–8. Although Gordon was a gunslinger, he poured several levels' worth of points into Grit, transforming Gallant into a durable, heavily armored bodyguard. This made Gallant a hybrid—able to soak up damage, while remaining mobile enough for a gunslinger playstyle.
Gallant stood clad in polished silver plate that gleamed in the light. Across his back hung a teardrop-shaped shield half his height, a flanged mace swung at his hip, and gripped in his hands was a massive zweihander. Though smaller than Harry's tower shield, this shield would still have enough coverage to protect either Gallant or an ally nearby. The armor's reflective enchantments added functionality: any attacking magic had a chance to rebound along a complementary vector, potentially striking other enemies. The angle of reflection equals the angle of incidence. As a tier 3 armor set, 'iconic', this Mirror armor would compensate for some of the difference in Grit and HP between Gallant and Harry.
The sword itself wasn't magical, but Gordon had re-recorded every attack animation to make strikes faster and harder to dodge. This effort, spanning almost half a year, was inspired by Marie, who had wanted someone to play with while Gordon was unavailable. Gallant was meant as a temporary companion—a stopgap until Gordon could join her himself.
Gallant now stood motionless, sword point pressed into the snow, feet shoulder-width apart. His helmet hung on his belt, revealing his clean-shaven face and hazel eyes. Harry, Claire, Karen, and the stream's viewers were stunned.
Harry spoke first. "Gordon...how did you even equip knight armor? Doesn't he share your stats?"
Gordon grinned. "Having a lot of Grit seemed in character for my cowboy," he said, though this was a lie.
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Harry shook his head. "Looks more like a knight than I do. You're gonna give me performance anxiety—steal my lady!"
Claire rose out of the lava just far enough to punch his arm. The flesh on metal sound made a sad bong sound, and she winced.
"Why isn't he talking?" Karen interjected.
Gordon paused to consider his words for a moment before speaking. "I hate avatars with canned dialogue that repeat themselves endlessly. So instead, I made him a silent protector. He's meant to be good company and a good listener."
"And of course he's meant to accompany Marie," Karen stated neutrally.
"That's right," Gordon confirmed, looking vaguely uneasy at the question.
Karen shot him a reassuring smile. "Just one more reason she's a lucky lady," she said. The words felt heavier than she'd meant them to. Gordon winced.
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Claire was having a bad day.
She'd known her brother was cooking something up, had been for months, even, but she wouldn't have been so eager to push for the Far Gate if she'd known the stream would become all about Mars Girl.
"Oh, she's so pretty," she mocked the chat aloud, staying in character as her boisterous alter ego the daring pyromancer. "Take off her shoes, take off her shoes!"
The lava was warm and supportive, more like a thick brine would be in real life, and she floated in it with her eyes closed trying to ignore the chat, and their newest party member.
If anything, at least she was quiet.
The petite witch-avatar had come through the gate just in the wake of Gallant's leaving, a trade having clearly been previously arranged. Her smiling, heart-shaped face had instantly soured the pit of Claire's stomach, her warm brown eyes so personable and gentle in manner, even through the imperfect medium of a system-run avatar. Her perfect ringlets bounced with every idle movement.
She'd clearly re-recorded her idle animations and several others. Gordon was rubbing off on her, she guessed.
And just like his, Marie's character was quiet. She'd barely said anything: a quick introduction, "Hey guys! I'm sorry I can't meet you in person, but I'm hoping an avatar is better than nothing. Just ask for healing, and she'll toss you a health potion—I can't really code, not like Gordon, but even I can do that much. She's also got some support spells using the default companion scripts—I hope it helps! Happy adventuring."
She'd also whispered in Gordon's ear, at which Harry had cracked up and the chat picked up with a torrent of suggestions which she was sure Karen did not want to think about.
She sloshed disconsolately in her lava pool. The waves were heavy and shallow, and her flailing felt ineffectual, just like her struggles to keep up Karen's spirits with the whole Mars thing. Stupid Gordon.
Marie's avatar was draped in silver-trimmed white robes, with a wand in one hand and a pointed white witch hat that tilted jauntily over one shoulder. The outfit screamed "storybook witch as interpreted by a Halloween's 'sexy' marketing department"—a detail Claire couldn't unsee once she noticed it. The fabrics were better than the Halloween store version would have been—silks, it looked like—but the plunging neckline was the same. No wonder the chat's so pro-healbot. She rolled her eyes at the scroll of hearts and smitten emojis flooding the side of her screen.
Karen sidled over to the side of the lava pool, eyes friendly, but her movements subdued. "You know," she joked, "there's enough of me to go around. I've got a heart big enough for you and the healbot."
Claire snorted. "We've done fine without one," she complained.
"Well. Gordon tries not to get hit, and I try not to get hit, and you hide behind Harry, and he drinks health potions like water. It's not exactly that we've got the base covered, more that we've worked around it. It was a nice gesture."
"A nice gesture," Claire repeated, her tone laced with sarcasm. "Yeah, my heart aches for the poor Martian princess, who thinks I'm ungrateful for her interrupting our party dynamic with her chatty bot and its nice 'gestures'."
Karen sighed but kept her tone light. "I'm sure you'd have some nice 'gestures' in you if I… if Harry were on Mars. If I were in Marie's shoes, I'd want to send a nice avatar to the people who mattered to me, too," she said quietly. "You'd do the same."
Claire had to admit in the privacy of her head that she might have made one or two selfless 'gestures' to make Harry happy. But—in the privacy of AC mode, where nobody would see and nobody could stream it to millions of viewers. It wasn't the same thing.
Claire's jaw tightened, but she didn't argue. Instead, she folded her arms and slouched deeper into the lava, letting the warm waves lap at her shoulders. "I'm gonna buy her a burka," she grumped.
"You're one to talk," Karen joked. "Besides, our viewers would probably lynch you. C'mon, let's go get something starchy, and we can talk about it. You've been a good mother goose, but you're a silly goose: I'll let you loose on the bad men at the pond later as a reward."
Claire smiled reluctantly at her friend's antics. "Harry, I'll be back later," she yelled. It was one of the things she liked about Ghostlands—the freedom to belt, yell, swagger, belch, and blow up buildings. She threw a dramatic salute to Karen and vanished, knowing her character would disappear with a pop, lava rushing in to fill the gap and splash, a suitably dramatic exit that she'd made a few times before.