Crafter's Passion Read online

  Crafter's Passion

  by Kris Schnee

  Copyright © 2018

  Kris M. Schnee

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by NextMars, https://www.shutterstock.com/g/NextMars; hexagon design by Rioxrenato at Morguefile.com.

  This story takes place in the world of "Thousand Tales", seen in other books, but no knowledge of it is required.

  Ratings and reviews are important to independent authors. Please consider rating this book so others can find it!

  Contents

  The Cast

  1. Talisman

  2. The Immortal

  3. Opportunity

  4. Quests

  5. Royalty and Commoners

  6. Upwardly Mobile

  7. Playing in the Dirt

  8. Banned

  9. Lampbearer

  10. Archived Data

  11. Tourney Isle

  12. The Rebels' Forest

  13. Quest Level 2

  14. The Novice

  Author's Note

  About the Author/Other Works

  The Cast

  "Delight is a word that is rarely invoked as a driver of historical change... But imagine... a folly, dismissed by many as a mindless amusement, that turns out to be a kind of artifact from the future."

  -Stephen Johnson, "Wonderland: How Play Made the Modern World"

  ~ California ~

  Stan Cooper: A young farmer considered mediocre by those who matter.

  "Baron" Hal: Director of Youth Community Center #6. Protector of the weak.

  Eddie and Mina: Friends of Stan's, and good citizens.

  Ms. Parker: Retired scientist and astronaut candidate.

  ~ Talespace ~

  Ludo: Ruling AI of the game world of Thousand Tales. Wears many masks.

  Alaya and Dominic: Gamers who play to relax.

  Oroblanco: A gunslinger taking an extended vacation.

  Volt St. John: A young dragon who's seen scarier things than monsters.

  Davis: An AI bunny from a 19th-century mold. Part-time cartoon character.

  1. Talisman

  2038, California

  Stan glanced over one shoulder at the hot, slanting sunlight that marked how long he had before curfew. He was browsing a pawn shop without much success. He'd gotten permission to take the whole day off, so long as he spent half of it scrounging for tools and parts to win him some community-service points. So far he'd gotten a decent toolkit at a garage sale but had found no cheap source for hoses. He was about to turn away and try the other pawn shop in town, when he spotted a Talisman.

  In the electronics section, where the sun and the windows made everything look sickly yellow, there were several beige computers and a Talisman gaming pad tucked between them. Stan hesitated, then made a show of browsing the other dusty computers before deigning to handle the one he wanted. The one that was a potential bargain. The thing looked mostly intact: a pocket-size tablet with buttons and joystick knobs on the sides. The touchscreen looked singed along one edge, where the ugly red plastic case was chipped. The back had a double-T logo advertising Thousand Tales, the game it was designed for.

  Stan grabbed the Talisman and one of the other machines and showed them to the bored clerk. "These things can run Linux, can't they?"

  "What's that?"

  "Never mind; I'll look it up." Stan pulled his Slab out of his pocket and tapped a few keys for show; obviously he didn't need a replacement computer and couldn't be talked into paying a high price. "I think either would probably work, yeah. Would you take fifty for them?"

  "Are you kidding? They're marked at a hundred each. And if you're going to be paying in scrip again, that's a 20% markup."

  "Since when is it twenty?" said Stan.

  "New policy. And that Talisman one? Dude, I'm not sure that thing's even legal anymore."

  "Then I can take it off your hands. I'm sure it can just get an update or whatever to make it legit, if it even works."

  The clerk plugged it in and confirmed that the power light turned on. He pushed a button and his face was bathed in the screen's glow for a moment before he shut it off again. "Seems like it works. Since it's beat-up and all, and you're a regular, I could knock off the 20% for that one."

  Stan tried not to smile at the good deal. "Eh... Fine."

  * * *

  He came back on his borrowed scooter, loaded with the tools and a usable garden hose and the one thing he'd bought with his own money. Or scrip, anyway, issued by Youth Community Center #6 of Imperial Valley. Stan barely beat the sunset on his way there. Dry fields of vegetables stood at the edge of the desert, just north of the Mexican border, where an adobe building complex in off-white held him and four hundred or so other people. Almost everyone there was like Stan, a high school grad doing his mandatory national service years.

  He hauled the heavy toolbox with one callused hand and carried the rest of his stuff in his backpack. He was a little surprised at himself for splurging on a toy. The point of being out for the day was to get away from the Community and have an easy time running errands, instead of tilling the fields. He had his government-issued Slab tablet for regular computer work, so he'd basically wasted his allowance. Except that this battered, scorched tablet wasn't standard-issue; it was his.

  After dinner in the dormitory's dining room, he retreated to Residence Block B where many identical doors lined a hall. He went to his room, opposite a government poster urging everyone to "Conserve!", and flopped down onto his cot. One nice thing about Community life was that he had a tiny space to himself, with a door that nobody but him and Baron Hal could open. He'd done very little with the place. It held his standard UV-proof shirts and pants and hats, his fold-out desk and bed, and a photo of his mother during a rare break between work shifts.

  His Slab beeped at him. Its minder software lit up the screen, showing colorful meters representing his statistics for the month. How was he doing in the various areas of good citizenship? He'd gotten a boost to his Community stat for volunteering for the day trip, but he'd spent "Social Credit" by taking half a day to himself to just wander the town and relax. Now the minder was showing him a raindrop icon and a reminder both to shower and not to use up his water allotment again. There were point bonuses for both hygiene and eco-friendliness. Stan didn't really need a shower right now, but the water metering would reset at midnight tonight so it was better to wash now than later. He grumbled and did that before getting to the Talisman.

  The machine chimed after a minute of charging. A Thousand Tales title screen appeared, made of runes tinged with shadow. Dramatic music swelled... followed by a "!" icon and the system message [Could not connect to network.]

  Stan grumbled. There were better ways to play this game. If you had money you could head out to a Thousand Tales Fun Zone, featuring pizza and VR pods and friendly robots. If you were really rich, then as of two years ago you could get your brain scooped out and "uploaded" as a digital ghost that would supposedly live inside the game world. For the world's other 99.9%, though, their choices were the Fun Zones or mucking around with network connections.

  The Talisman was legal, but he wasn't technically allowed to have a computer here that wasn't an approved model with monitoring hardware built in. The network policy was set to allow all devices using EyeTower brand monitoring software, though. So once Stan fiddled with the network menu and installed that he was able to get normal access.

  He was just finishing up that chore when his Slab buzzed with an announcement. It said, [You should attend movie night! The film even counts as education credit.] Ugh; it was another nature documentary clumsily filmed by students in some other Community. Something about how much environmental harm had been done by the so-called "Ame
rican Free States" when they seceded.

  Stan put the Slab into sleep mode and shut his door, so he could actually enjoy his new toy without education or politics. Finally!

  The title screen chugged and asked him to log in. Stan said out loud, "This model has voice recognition, right?"

  Text stamped itself into the screen like engraved metal. [Yes. Your face is not recognized. Are you a new user?]

  "I am. Sign me up for a trial account for now, I guess." He hadn't thought far enough ahead when buying the Talisman, to budget his scrip for buying real money, to pay for a game subscription.

  The Talisman went dark, whooshed, and returned to show a silent title screen in simple black type on white: [THOUSAND TALES. Touch To Start.] When Stan touched the screen, it became a rippling void like dark water. A tiny dragon appeared and spoke in the form of typed letters: [Greetings, newcomer. Would you like to share scrolls of wisdom to speed our quest for understanding?] Below that a box asked, [(Share social media profile?)]

  Stan didn't want his Community profile with all its measurements and rules to follow him into the game. He clicked No. The game responded with more ripples in the void, then a series of puzzle questions. Which symbol is the odd one out? What number is next in the series? How many moves would it take to send the robot to the gate? With each question the graphics grew slightly more sophisticated, starting from Grandpa's Atari level.

  Weird. Stan had seen screenshots of Thousand Tales, and he'd heard it was a little different for everyone what with the built-in AI meddling in the experience, but nobody showed off this part of the game. Probably because it was so simplistic, really just an IQ test.

  The next question was, [If you had to blame the world's problems on one thing, in one word, what would it be?]

  Stan laughed. A personality test, too. "Uh... Poverty?"

  A pixelated figure appeared on a glass platform lined with weapon racks. [Pick a cool weapon! (You're not stuck with it.)]

  Stan maneuvered the little guy to browse, discovering that every item had a text description that made it sound exciting for something made of pixels. He went with the crossbow that shoots grappling hooks, as opposed to the silent crossbow that shoots poison darts. He wasn't sure what this decision was supposed to reveal.

  The questions and puzzles interspersed, growing increasingly like an actual game. He bet imaginary money on who'd win in a fight between blindfolded Godzilla and drunk Batman, and argued for why, and then played a shopping game about finding the best way to spend the profits. When the flurry of questions and mini-games finally went dark again with a dramatic curtain-drop, Stan found he was having fun even though that was just the setup phase. After all, Thousand Tales wasn't a conventional multiplayer game; it had been born from the idea of an experience that could be customized for each player.

  A woman in a starry veil appeared onscreen, with hair that looked like an animated waterfall. She smiled and spoke aloud in a faintly synthetic and musical voice. "Thank you for your patience. My name is Ludo, and I'm designed to bring fun to players of the game. Based on your behavior, I have a few suggested destinations for you."

  A menu slid into view beside her, saying:

  [-The Merchant of Venus: Explore and trade in space! (Personal Zone)

  -The Rebels of Norwood: Forest creatures battle an evil empire! (Group Zone, Roleplaying-Heavy)

  -Endless Isles: A sea of mystery and exploration! (Public Zone)]

  Stan looked past the menu and said, "You're the game's main AI?"

  "That's right. You can converse with me normally if you like."

  It was eerie meeting "her", a machine that had eaten several billionaires' brains along with a lot of their stock. "I don't think I'm in your league," he said. "I haven't got the money for whatever premium content you're selling."

  Ludo said, "No problem. The game is available to all. Which area would you like to begin in?"

  It looked like the choices were a little world meant for him alone, like a single-player game with an intelligent game-master constantly seeking his approval; a small group where he'd be pestered to be online at certain times and make a part-time job out of playing; or a seemingly conventional "massively multiplayer" world. The last one seemed like the easiest, lowest pressure option. "Endless Isles. Please."

  "All right. Why, if I may ask?"

  Stan shrugged. "Seems like the least pressure. I don't care if I'm not the Chosen One." The game didn't need to center around him.

  "Noted," said Ludo. "We'll skip the character creation screen, then, though you can change later. Here we go!"

  The veiled AI vanished and a loading bar appeared. Stan stretched and checked the Slab, which warned that he'd gotten a sub-optimal amount of exercise this week and should get to sleep soon. It wasn't scolding him yet, just cheerfully listing "fun facts" about the virtues of sleep and workouts. Stan tossed the thing back onto his shelf and picked up the Talisman again.

  There was a knock on the door. Stan hid the Talisman pad on his shelf, not wanting to show off the new computer, and opened it. His fellow resident, Eddie, stood there drumming his fingers on a battered paper book. "Can you help me with my algebra?" he blurted out the moment Stan showed his face.

  "For a bit. What's with the book?"

  Eddie's face lit up. "It's from my dad's old stuff! It explains everything differently. But I'm still having trouble with graphing equations."

  Stan winced, thinking, It must be nice having a father. He said, "I might be able to help. Isn't that ahead of the schedule?"

  "I want to be doing more than the average. I'm going to apply to college and dad can't afford a tutor for the admissions test."

  Stan said, "What's your Social Credit Score rank? A?"

  "A-."

  "And Baron Hal likes you. No point in stressing out about math test scores; you'll get in somewhere."

  Eddie looked confused. "But I want to do well."

  "Why?"

  "Dad says a college degree is the key to success. Always has been."

  Stan barely avoided laughing at his classmate. What a way to spend your life: chasing somebody else's idea of what "success" meant a generation ago! He shook his head and said, "I've got some free time tomorrow to talk math. How's after lunch?"

  "That works. Thanks!" Eddie skipped away, toting his book like a lucky charm that'd make him rich and important someday. Stan shut the door and went back to his game.

  * * *

  The screen lit up with the bright sun of another world. His character was a tan-skinned, awkwardly tall human like himself, and dressed in a tattered shirt and shorts like a shipwrecked sailor. Stan had him stand up to look around the sheltered cove where he'd arrived. There was one obvious exit and a hidden rock-climbing path. He took the easy beach route and found himself in a fantasy coastal village, more of an adventurer camp than a place where people would live.

  Steel drum music began to play, and words splashed across the screen as a system-generated message. [You have discovered Central Island (0,0).]

  Out of curiosity he tried peeking into a straw hut and got another system message: [The owner has locked this house.] No looting people's stuff while they were offline? Good. Stan headed for a tavern that stood at the water's edge with a deck just above the waves, advertised as the Crown & Tail Pub.

  The music was coming from here. This warren of wooden rooms had a few stairs leading up and down to various sets of tables, and many windows facing the sea. The dozens of customers were mostly humans in wildly assorted outfits from practical light armor to garish spiky fantasy garb. Stan switched the camera from third-person to first so that he could look around more effectively. He hung back to watch what was going on here. A trio of elves were talking about a cave they wanted to explore, a grim swordsman was flipping through a book, and a young girl in a purple robe was intent on a scroll covered with runes.

  Stan pushed a button to bring up the game's interface, which slid into place like frosted glass. He pushed a Help
button and said, "What am I supposed to do? Is there a starting quest?"

  Text appeared. ["Suggestion: Strike up a conversation! You can also inspect anything."]

  Anything, huh? Since there was an AI running the show and not just a database of items, it could be fun to test the limits of the system. Stan crouched and looked under a table, then hit an onscreen button labeled "Inspect".

  [There's some gum here.] A pink blob appeared.

  He chuckled and used the "Interact" button, which added a piece of used gum to his inventory. Some reward. He wandered around the pub looking at things and acquired three units of crumpled paper from discarded napkins. None of them had been visible on the way in.

  The bartender, a swarthy redhead gal in a low blouse, called out to him. "Haven't seen anyone trying to earn a Garbageman class before."

  Stan went over to her, wondering if his sheepish expression in the real world carried over to his character via camera. "I'm just experimenting. What can I do for a quick intro adventure?" He wasn't sure if he had to rephrase that to make the game's AI understand. That is, a random bartender wouldn't have the full processing power of Ludo, right? She was just a Non-Player Character or NPC. Or was she another real person like him? There was no label. When he used the Inspect button on her he saw only this:

  [Ieanna

  PUBLIC INFO

  Class: Merchant

  Faction Flag: None

  Note: "Please confine brawls to the beach outside where we can all watch."]

  Ieanna said, "A few good starting options are to visit the mine on Island East-1, or get yourself a weapon or a fishing rod."

  He checked his inventory. Besides the garbage and default clothes he had nothing. That was better than being handed a ready-made warrior. "How do I get a weapon?"

  "You can ask around for a hand-me-down, or start off with some beach-combing for rocks and sticks. There's a basic crafting bench outside."