Surveyor

Link to Commentary.

In the events leading to the completion of the Way Matrix, several Number Surveyors had been sent to evaluate individual portions of Aeria for their specific anchoring conditions. During these missions, the Surveyors would carry Sound Shards, crystals that would re-arrange their structure upon activation to match given sound frequencies, and when energized with magic, would return the recorded frequencies. The following are logs from the Sound Shard of Surveyor 912, better known as "Nine-Twelve," made three years prior to the Present.


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 0.

My name is Nine-Twelve, and this is my first Sound Shard... I'm not entirely sure how these work, but the recordings are supposed to be flawless, at least, Nine-O'Four said so. Well, uh, I guess some background information is in order... the Master has commissioned several of us Numbers to act as scouts and surveyors for anchoring sites across Aeria, and these sound shards are supposed to act as our records throughout this process. To be honest, I'm rather nervous. This is my first time going to Aeria. I'm hardly a year old, and my consciousness hasn't developed as well as the others... I hope the Aerians are friendly. Well, we're all leaving in ten minutes. I myself am headed for what's called 'Southern Talibar.' It scares me, I suppose, but it's also very exciting. Ah, they're calling me now. Time to depart."


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 1.

The trip was rougher than I'd imagined. My structure nearly shifted back into proto-golem goo! I'm just glad it's over with. It's been all of twenty minutes since I've arrived here and I've noticed that most things seem to be avoiding me. From what I have managed to catch, though I've found small, brown-furred four legged creatures.. some are very small and have long, open ears and round, ball-shaped tails.. they seem to hop around on hind legs. Others are large and have long legs and tiny stumps coming out of their heads. Both seem quick to flee. Then, there are those large, slow moving creatures with the thick, brown coats and triangular snouts. They growl and roar at me when I get close, but when they do, I can see their sharp teeth. There are also some 'bugs' flying around. This world is so interesting. Overall magic levels seem low, but stable in this particular zone, so it's unfit for major anchorage, but minor anchorage should do, though I should check the rest of the region now. Resuming examination."


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 2.

Two days have passed since my arrival. I have encountered local humans, though I've refrained from approaching, as instructed. Most seem oblivious to my presence, so long as I remain quiet and keep to the forest. While mapping the magical fields of the area, though, I often run into children. They play by the forest's edge and have a tendency to chase the wildlife. Fascinating creatures, these humans. Unlike the Master, they aren't heavily covered, especially the children, who seem to enjoy the mud and dirt.

A small portion of my time here has been spent on pondering our physiological similarities. Though intelligence and learning were intended as traits for us, philosophical speculation was not a focus of our short education. Thus, I am not confident in my thoughts here, but after seeing how similar we are to these humans, I wonder just how closely we we're designed, and if they feel as we feel. Or, I suppose it's more accurate to wonder if we are feeling what they feel.

Then again, it could just be the energy field in the area. High levels of nature-energy and Oghmic design are common in these secluded regions of the forest, where nature shapes the land. I speculate if beings meditate here. Regardless, this is an excellent spot for anchorage. I will be mapping this portion of the region more thoroughly in the coming days."


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 3.

This is my fifth day here in Southern Talibar, or so I believe it to be. I encountered what I believe to be 'bandits' or 'highwaymen,' as they call them here. These individuals are thieves and robbers that await unsuspecting travelers, catch them off guard in an ambush and take all their belongings. The safety of their prey rarely seems to be an issue, though I have seen some of them hesitate in harming their victims. Thus, I am unsure of my exact whereabouts because I chose to flee and they followed me rather persistently. I believe I am further toward the heart of Talibar now, but I cannot be sure.

It is a shame that I could not stay and observe them as they attempted to rob me. While my curiosity is unending, the Master's orders were strict and clear when he told us to avoid any and all human contact. Our existence was to remain a secret until the completion of the Way Matrix. Thus far, I believe I have gone unidentified. Still, their expressions haunt my mind. Is it strange that an artificial creation such as I has the ability to empathize? Would it not be better if Master had made us more cold and emotionless? I ponder this because their hungry, greedy expressions were ridden with hate, and it has disturbed me for the greater portion of today in how those children from the forest could, in time, become ruthless animals. For that matter, what made humans any different from animals?

I have been attempting to calm myself, but there is a city nearby, and the resulting magical field of energy is extremely unstable and practically useless when it comes to calming my being. There is a large hill near here. I am traveling there now in an attempt to figure out just where I am, and from there, I'll resume my surveying. But I worry that more of the region here will begin looking like this. After all, if these simple bandits could have strayed some far from their natural responsibilities, what of the human mages? Has their use of magic been any more responsible? These unhealthy flows of magic could even put my brothers and sisters at risk. I'm beginning to worry for their safety, too. Ah, approaching the hill now, I will resume this log at another date."


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 4.

It has been nine days since this journey began. Today, I encountered a stranger group of humanoids. They are called Elves, and have long, pointed ears and slender bodies. Their complexion is fair, and interestingly, their magical capacity far exceeds that of most humans. They do seem more frail, though. I followed these creatures for some time, for their presence helped mask my own. I believe this bunch was of a higher class, due to their bright and elegant apparel, and the superiority with which they treated themselves over others.

Another of this world's mysteries is how its inhabitants seem to rank themselves in their societies. I couldn't relate, but this is no surprise, for us Numbers don't have a true ranking system, merely distributed responsibilities. In the end, we're all subject to the Master, and in all other instances, are equals. It is true, though, that some of us have more experience and ability than others, and we respect those. Thus, I came to wonder if mortal ranking was based on this, but from my observation of this group of elves, I found this not to be the case. The least respected one appeared the most capable, that being the escort, and his charges appeared as wise as children. Strange, how mortals work.

My journey to map out the anchoring potency of this region is leading me to a city called Leyanara, hence why I follow these elves. There, I will meet another of my brothers and we will briefly exchange information before resuming our respective paths. The journey is proving a little slow, however, as traveling in the magical shadow of these elves is more of a burden than I first imagined. Well then, until next time."


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 5.

It's day twelve. I must say, Leyanara is beautiful, and a wonderful zone of magic. It's not entirely stable with all the contrasting and conflicting energies concentrated in the city, but the magical potential here is phenomenal. Unfortunately, I have been limited to viewing at a distance, but at the least, I haven't the need to worry too much about being found out.

I have been looking for human clothing, mainly a robe or hooded cloak, to use as a means to blend in with crowds and get closer to people. Two weeks of running and watching from afar has pushed my curiosity to the limit. Of course, I must be careful not to be caught and to keep my contact brief.

There is also another matter. One of the elves from the escort may have caught on to me following them. I do not think she knows just what I am, but I have caught her wandering the woods, around Leyanara, just by the wooden structure where I hide- I believe it to be called a lumber mill- and she often shows signs of searching for something. I have been evading her thus far, but she's becoming better at following me. I believe she has also begun to recognize my tracks, which is a problem, because I am not much for changing my form. I will attempt to deal with her, perhaps under a disguise. Until then, I cannot chart this city properly, much less meet with my fellow Number."


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 6.

It is now the fourteenth day, things have been strangely eventful thus far. I encountered a small ring of 'bandits' again. When one strayed too far, I managed to pull him further away from the group and make him unconscious by starving him of air. Amazing that something so simple could hurt a person. I took his large, heavy cloak, and have since been wearing it. It is an uncomfortable thing, but the cloak has made it possible for me to wander in and out of the city.

They were short jaunts, of course. This is my third time leaving the city. However, I believe I'm being followed again by the elven female. I-.. Sh- Blast it, here she comes-" Footsteps. A quickening of pace. Panting, and a sudden halt. A woman's voice spoke.

"Stop!" A crash of thunder. "Flee again and the next one stop at the ground..." The panting continued. Finally, the female voice continued. "Who.. what are you? Why were you following us?..." Silence. Then, the shifting of dirt and gravel, and a strong wind. "Wait, stop!-" Another crack of thunder, and more gusts of wind. Clunk, the impact of rock on dirt, shouting...

Footsteps approached. A soft grunt as gravel shifts and a light breeze follows.

"..What... what is this crystal? It's glowing... H-huh, wh-"


"-elling you, Ellia, he must have been a warlock. Why won't you listen to m- What are you doing?!"

"Huh? What do you mean? I was just touching the other s- Oh- Oh, my, Lena, look! It's glowing! It's glowing like I said it was!"

Hurried footsteps approached. "You're right, it's much brighter now.... why isn't sound coming out?"

"Uhm.. I.. I think.. this is how it listens. It was glowing like this right as I picked it up, and then it stopped glowing. Remember my voice? At the very end of-"

"-I remember, I remember! So, it's going to remember everything we say? This is rare, Ellia, very rare. We should try to sell it!" A loud scraping across wood and slight gust of air. "No! Lena, we can't- That person, whoever it was, he's going to come back for it!"

"So?!""

"Lena, what if he comes after us?! This isn't ours!"

"What? Why- Oh, curse you, girl, so he was a warlock!" A wooden leg is kicked, and screeches to a short halt. Heavy steps march away. "Damn it, Ellia, how could you be so stupid?!"

"What? N-no, Lena, you've got it wrong." A rising breeze. A quick drop. A muffled and cushioned thud. "Can't you see? It's not him, it's us! We're at faul-.."


Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. "It's glowing.. I-..is this working?- Um... Hello!" Wind waves back and forth as if changing direction each half-second. "Hello! Cloaked one! I know you are hiding here! I've come to return your crystal! Oh, I hope he won't harm me... This is bad, maybe I should have listened to Ellia... I should go..."

The crunch of leaves- Air twists and spins. A shriek.

"Calm yourself." A metallic voice answers. "I am here for the single purpose of retrieving what is mine. Please return it to me." Several steps on dirt. The crunch of a twig. A gust. A weight sliding upon gravel. Two steps. A third. "W-w-what are you!"

"...I am not permitted to say it. The crystal in your hands.. it is very important. Please return it to me. I would be most grateful if you did."

"Aha! N-Nine-Twelve! You're him! I r-remember now- that c-can't be your real name, though- An alias, it's an a-alias!"

A soft stomp. Shifting winds. Cloth drags along the crystal. All is muffled and distant. "I don't trust you. I can't trust you- you hide, you keep secrets- no decent and honest person would keep secrets. You can't have this back unless you tell me everything!"

A long silence.

"That would be against our code, and threaten the foundations of your reality. You speak words without understanding the meaning of their implications. There exists a world greater than yours that does not fit the small box of your rationale. Please. I ask you in earnest pleading, return to me my white crystal. It holds a purpose beyond my own."

"B-... Tell me. Tell me everything, and you can have it. I'll decide for myself if you're lying or not-"

"-And how am I to decide that I can trust you? Who am I to go against the code that binds me, that allows me to exist? What trust can you offer me, what reassurance is there that you will not put my secrets at stake?"

Another long silence. Then- a moist grip, the squeak of cloth and crystal- wind again, but brief. "I'll keep this out here, for you to see, and I'll -... I'll promise to keep it a secret. You can have-" Shuffling "-this.. amulet- Ngh- this amulet here.... it was a gift from my mother. It also holds my-... her will to my inheritance... If I break my swear, you may keep it."

Silence. A toss. A clangs of metal on metal. Silence. Leaves and twigs crack and shift. "Very well. Shut it off. I will accept your proposal."

Quick movements. A girlish chuckle. "So, tell me everything abou-"


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 9,-"
"This is so exciting..."

A pause.

"Please, don't do that in the middle of the log- Ugh, now I have to start over-" Shuffling of feet.

"But it's amazing! Please, let me ju-"


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 9,

It has been twenty eight days since the beginning of my journey. The majority of south-central Talibar has been charted with accuracy. Though I was without my Sound Shard for several weeks, I have managed to recover it in good condition."

"Recover? Hah..."

"The exchange with Seven-Eighty-Two was successful following the difficult recovery process-"

"Difficult?!"

"-and having been informed that my route was re-assigned, I am heading north to the lands of 'Occitan,' to attempt further inspection and surveying. I believe I will be joined by several of my comrades, which will prove reassuring, as traveling alone has proven to be challenging-"

"Look, stop trying to pretend you're alo-..."

"-ALONE, with no one to interact with, though it's been difficult, is necessary-... What? What do you want me to say? That I befriended an elf? Do you realize how much trouble that could get me i- what, it's still o- On! On my journey, I expect to see strange and interesting sights, and I'm sure there will be much philosophical discourse-"

"Just end it already! Look, you're wasting time on-"

"-philosophical discourse-"

"-on this, and it's almost sunset and climbing in the dark is suici-"

"Shh-shh-shhh! Gods... I'm never doing this with you around, again...As I was saying, before the, ah, breeze interrupted me, I believe the future will hold many great discoveries for me. Until then."

"There, see? That wasn't so hard. Now put it away alr-"


"Number Nine-Twelve, Surveyor, Log 10,"

A sigh. Footsteps. The crunch of dried leaves.

"It has been thirty-four days since my last entry. I have encountered three of my fellow Numbers whilst heading for the land of Occitan, and all of them have told me the same thing: That the anchorage of Talibar is commencing without much difficulty, and that my destination will prove a greater dilemma than these magically rich lands. Seven-Fourteen in particular spoke of Occitan's xenophobic nature and shunning of magic. She also mentioned the lingering presence of darkness... I make not of all this because w-... I... am now near the Occitan's edge, and even from this distance, I see they keep a tight watch over their borders."

The footsteps stop.

"Passen Sie Männer auf!"

"Shh... do you hear that?"

"...I hear it. It sounds like a search party is approaching, so I will have to cut this log short, but it may be a good time to add-"

"Beobachten sie die bäume. Wir werden die Ungeheuer heute Abend finden!"

"-that Seven-Fourteen mentioned being attacked by hunters." Slow footsteps. A sudden gust of wind- faster steps. "Hunters-" the tearing of wood, a woman's cry, "-targeting Numbers!" A swift gust and the sound of armor against wood. Men shout out as their voices fade off. Heavy breathing.

"I d-didn't know you could use a tree like that..." Hurried steps close in. "Come on, let's go- turn that off already, the light's giving us away!-" Two sets of steps pick up. Far-off cries of hostility.

"I know, I know- Ugh, I will detail the natives' hostility at a safer time!" A series of impacts on wood and dirt. "Blast it, they've got crossbo-"

update. Added Log 2.

Updated again with Log 3. I like how these things are going, and episodic shorts are easy on the writer.

Updated with Log 4

Updated Again: Log 5

Update, Log 6

Updated with the unofficial Log 7. Sorry for the slow update, it's been a long and busy day (yes, I'm still awake from the day before).

Updated. Unofficial Log 8. Better late than never.

Updated with Log 9.

Updated w/ log 10, Occi-talk credits go to some shit translater, and some minor editing creds go to Krug.