Crafter's Passion Read online

  There were a few palm trees around. Stan climbed up one and hacked a few of the long fronds free while his friends explored. He gestured to open the crafting menu.

  The interface for that appeared. [You don't have a weaving station. Or even a basic crafting station.]

  "I've got tools and hands, don't I? I should be able to try it."

  [You can, while in VR mode, but you won't have much assistance! The question is, have you learned enough to really make one? Go.]

  Oh, shoot. Stan had learned about smithing techniques, but how much did he know about the weaving he'd done? The first time, he'd had a lesson involving wiggling strands back and forth across each other. It'd been stylized, though.

  Eddie walked back into view and pointed. "There's a set of ancient stairs by that pillar."

  Mina called out from another direction inland. "We've got a problem!"

  Stan looked up from his mass of leaves. Mina, Parker and Eddie were backing away from a squad of four statues made of coral, that were marching along to kill them. He threw down his stuff and ran into the fray with his hammer. He was the only one with a proper weapon, so he scored the first solid hit and cracked one golem's arm in a spray of coral chunks. (Ooh, treasure.)

  The others fought too with rocks and sticks. Mina ran up and kicked a stone just like a soccer ball, solidly into one of the monsters' chests. "Nice," said Stan.

  Eddie said, "I think I see more coming. Do your weaving!"

  "In the middle of a fight?!" He was a little busy trying to save Parker from another golem.

  "Sure, why not? Give me your hammer."

  Stan smashed his way through another of the enemies, then tossed the hammer to Eddie and retreated back to the shore with his leaves. "Then hold them off." He started cutting fronds with his knife. He spared a glance up at the golems and used his Inspect skill.

  Text said, [Coral Captor: Automatons made of sharp but brittle stuff, driving people off their island. Weak versus blunt weapons.] That was good but didn't change their tactics. Stan called out "Weak versus blunt!" and returned to work. He tried laying some grassy leaves side by side and tugging another one crosswise above and below them. How were they supposed to stay in place? He could tie them together, or tuck in the ends. Meanwhile his friends were getting beaten to death by murder golems. Stan tried to work quickly. The VR system was probably fudging the results in his favor but he could feel the strands against his fingers, sometimes slipping or getting tangled the wrong way. Thuds and yelps sounded from nearby and sometimes there was the crack of a thick branch or a rock against coral.

  "Mina's down!" said Eddie. There were five golems in play now, and Mina had vanished while Stan wasn't looking.

  "Somebody give me a stick to put this on."

  Parker kicked a stick toward him and went back to fighting, laughing as she assailed statues with a rock in each hand. Then she got killed too, striking ice through Stan's heart.

  If the creatures were "driving people off the island", maybe he could leave. Stan grabbed his work and waded into the shallows to keep tying and tangling the bits of leaf. He couldn't quite reach his raft. One of the golems took a swing at him and forced him back. He plunged backward into the water, yanking the unfinished flag underwater with him. Down in the gentle waves he kept weaving while Eddie fought. The VR pod didn't cut off his air supply but it was showing a warning icon. Fine. Stan surfaced to see he was alone now except for a trio of golems waiting in the shallows to evict him again. Since they were just standing there whirring, Stan made the last few moves to pull together a mat of green grass with a stick along one side.

  [Crafting result: Field-Expedient Flag. "Not even worth kneeling for, but it counts."]

  If he could stick this flag in the island, he'd be eligible to save here -- if he then found a save crystal. Which was probably at the dungeon entrance Eddie found, past the golem linebackers. Then he could die, go home to the Community, reappear here, and get his stuff back before the island reset.

  [Island reset in 6 hours], the game said, echoing his thoughts.

  "All right! Let's do this." Stan grinned fiercely and waded as quickly as he could to his left, so that the golems weren't quite able to keep up. With that lead he sprinted onto the beach and stabbed his two-foot-tall flagpole into the sand. A rapid-fire version of the usual fanfare played. The tutorial message just said [Yeah, go.] One of the golems took a swing at him but he ducked, dashed, and ran past their line to hunt for that save point. He'd lost track of the direction, so two of the golems punched him from either side of a coral pillar. Unarmed, unarmored and hurt, he dived out of their way and felt himself crash against the rough ground. He rolled to avoid a stomping foot, then caught sight of the entrance at last. With the golems right behind him he ran toward a pit where a blue-tinged save crystal lit the darkness, and whacked it with his palm.

  [Save point set.]

  "Valhalla!" cried Stan, and charged up to the surface to punch golems until they killed him.

  * * *

  [DEATH. Stan was corralled and coraled. "That's going on today's public highlight reel."]

  Stan laughed, floating in darkness. "I'll take that as a compliment."

  The world faded into a stark landscape of black rocks and snow, and it was suddenly chilly. A dark man in finely trimmed fur clothing appeared, wearing a fencing sword and a simple crown. Stan blinked, glanced down, and saw he was a princess again.

  Mina, as "Prince Minos", looked Stan over with a grin. "You're underdressed."

  "I wasn't expecting a cold reception. Is this the other adventure you wanted to do?"

  "I asked for something simple and fun. Let's go while we can." She pointed toward a looming cave entrance bedecked with skulls.

  Stan drew his sword and they went into the depths together. The ruins were a series of halls bending at nearly right angles with slightly uneven floors. When a skeleton warrior charged at them, a smile flickered across Stan's face; he felt like he'd been let in on a joke.

  Together they hacked the thing to death with their swords. Mina's was more of a cavalry saber than Stan's thin stabby blade, but neither should've worked well against bones. Stan didn't need an Inspect window to tell him the weapon physics weren't too realistic in this bubble world. Ah, well; it was like taking a date to a bad movie.

  He found himself mostly taking the lead in the twisting tunnels. Instead of mashing buttons to swing a club and hop back, he had to move for himself. He used the fencing lesson he'd had for parrying blows. The skeletons were obvious enough in their swings that he was able to block most of them and even shield Mina, who was going for more of a wild slashing kind of gameplay.

  Between fights, Mina turned to him and said, "I thought it'd be nice to get some time away from the others, even if it meant using this character."

  Stan gave her a courtly bow. "Oh, you didn't want to play at being adventuring royalty?"

  The prince returned the bow. "It's just silly game stuff. But in this pretend space, I'm allowed to do silly things." Suddenly he grabbed Stan around the shoulders, leaned closer, then pulled back and laughed. "Okay, I don't think I want to kiss you right now."

  Stan was weirded out by the role reversal, but he gave Mina a hug anyway. They weren't even physically touching, but he could feel her warmth in the chilly tunnels.

  Mina led them on to a brawl with skeletons on a rickety bridge, where the leader had a musket and wind whistled up from a bottomless pit. They forced their way past the bad guys in the middle and ran onward, dodged gunfire, and kicked the far side's guards into the pit. More goons were still running at them from behind, along the bridge. Stan said, "Do it!" and both of them slashed down at the ropes, sending the last foes crashing down amid the falling rope and timbers.

  Mina leaned against a bridge post, giggling and catching her breath. "I'd say we're trapped now, but none of this is going to matter."

  Stan said, "We'll always have the skeleton dungeon. The time must be running out about now."
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  "Yeah. Uh..." The prince looked back at Stan and sighed. "As long as we're pretending, what would you do if you gave up trying to thwart Hal's nefarious plan to have you behave yourself?"

  "I'd probably go back to what I'd been doing. Relax, and plan on going to a trade school or something. Kick back on Basic Income." Stan frowned. "It sounds like that's not what you're looking for." He almost added, In a man.

  "It's not. But I can see the appeal of just not caring."

  "What would you do if your plan to be a Good Citizen were off-limits?"

  "What you're doing sounds tempting. Play games all the time, and maybe learn something."

  He thought, Is that what I'm doing? Playing, with no plan beyond that, while sabotaging the route to an easy job that'll give me time for games? Stan looked into the abyss they'd just crossed. "When you put it that way it sounds less appealing. What if I used this game to train, and get a better job?"

  Mina said, "I got a point of Law already for a debate scenario that'll be good practice. But if you're going to train with this game, you've still got to keep the SCS pleased. None of this squeaking by with a C grade."

  "Why, prince! It almost sounds like you think our training in finance and law is more important than the War on Skeletons."

  Mina hugged him and ruffled what felt like long hair on his neck. "Stay out of trouble, now."

  He said, "Work hard, or I might just outdo your score after all!"

  The cave faded out, back to the VR pod's exit screen.

  On the way back to the dorm, once Eddie had left them, Mina kissed him for real.

  10. Archived Data

  Training or no, he had an immediate problem waiting back in the Isles. He logged in using his brand-new Talisman. "Good evening!" he told it. It brought up the Isles without asking, adding a note: [That flag only worked this one time! Make a better one to mark your progress permanently.]

  He grumbled, but that was fair; the rules were a little more lenient for a paying VR customer on the clock. For now, he made sure the golems weren't about to jump him, and looked around for his stuff. It was still there, a little worse for wear except that he'd lost his burlap bag again. He grabbed his backpack and hammer, scooped up some coral chunks and miscellaneous shells and plants, then made for his raft at the first sign of movement in the distance. He pushed off, managing to save all four paddles. From offshore he waved goodbye to a golem squad.

  Mission accomplished; he'd learned a bit more of the map layout and gotten some rafting practice without losing anything important. He rowed back to Central Island to sell his minor loot, save, patch up the raft, and sell it to a newbie adventurer group. He could always make another, and now he had the cash to get ready for his real trip. More than that, it felt good to help some other explorers on their way and get them out of the early-game resource trap.

  There was a bit of a grind ahead, and he did it over the course of a week. It was pretty smooth sailing at the Community since he had a truce with Baron Hal. Stan tried to give some non-smartass participation in events here and there, he legitimately kept up with his work assignments, and he played Thousand Tales only in his room or outside in audio mode. That was fine.

  In the game he did several rounds of sharpening his hatchet, cutting wood, practicing his Growth magic element on it, crafting spare parts for better ships than he could ever have, and selling those. With the profit he bought tin, combined that with magic-made copper, made bronze knives and then worked his way up to swords. Everybody wanted swords, even though they were far from the only viable weapon choice. He did only a little combat and didn't care.

  While he was going through that process he used the Gadget Inspector ability on his equipment. That brought up not just the technology tree he'd seen before, but a little inspection mini-game. That, in turn, conjured some real physical commentary on what he'd made. His hammerhead could be centered on the shaft for better balance, which would mean more speed and so on. The comments interested him. He said, "Ludo, is this some kind of engineering code you're using in the real world?"

  [This analysis is handled by a Tier-II agent running locally on your Talisman. It's controlled by the Tier-III servitor supervising Endless Isles.]

  "What? There's an AI on the hardware itself?"

  [Greetings from the supervisor AI of the Isles, responsible for many local features of the rules. My name is Ocean-of-Tears-in-Rain.]

  A second window with a different color popped up below that, adding, [I think it's just a phase. -L]

  Ludo wasn't running the whole thing directly? That did make sense; no one mind could handle so many conversations and game rules at once. Stan told this "servitor", "Uh, hello. I'm enjoying the game."

  [May it bring you solace. Yes, the engineering routine is used for several purposes in both worlds.]

  He was a little uneasy about talking with a disembodied AI that was somewhere in between the AIs that were just people, and Ludo. "Thanks. That's it for now."

  He worked at the forge and anvil to reshape his hammer, then his hatchet, then his latest sword blade. Before he could attach a hilt to the new, extra-sturdy sword, he got a message: [You now know enough to begin making iron, steel and other iron alloys!]

  More progress! He'd already read some about the differences between bronze-working, by pouring metal into molds, and iron-working, done for centuries by pounding solid metal. He could craft even better stuff.

  When he tried his magic menu again, though, he got a notice: [Your Create and Metal elements are both at level 1. No dice at getting anything better than copper with those.]

  That was fine; he could upgrade later. He'd even read that in some ways bronze was better than iron, and that iron had taken over mostly because it was cheaper. Thousand Tales modeled that with the need for tin, and the fact that bronze wasn't straight-up inferior in its stats. On the other hand the rules weren't totally realistic; copper plus tin in this game got you not just bronze, but other alloys like brass. There were a bunch of different materials to try crafting next, even without the skill to start using magical ingredients for smithing.

  Stan was ready to make another, better raft and get going, but he wanted a stock of trade goods too. It was time to take stock of his abilities:

  [Stan Cooper

  PRIVATE INFO

  Account type: Standard

  Mind: Tier-III

  Body: Human

  Main Skills: Smithing, Woodworking, Inspect, Merchant, Hammer

  Talents: Pack Man, Gadget Inspector

  Shamanic Magic 1: Growth, Metal, Create

  Save Point: Crown & Tail Pub

  PUBLIC INFO

  Note: I make things!

  Class: None]

  While shopping at the market he ran into that dragon alchemist. "Hello!" Stan said. "Thanks again for the wood-chopping help while I was in VR. I'm heading to Tourney Isle soon. Got any advice?"

  "You're looking to get into fighting? Or farming?"

  "I just wanted to meet the AI there for a quest. By the way, I can do minor upgrades on equipment now."

  A passing pair of swordsmen heard that. "Hey, can you add spikes to my armor? And this sword?"

  Stan grinned; word got around quickly. "Can do."

  The alchemist said, "Looks like you've got your hands full. If you get the chance though, I'd like a big metal-bound treasure chest."

  "For you I'll do that at materials cost, but excuse me while I take some orders."

  Stan bounced through the rows of market stalls, with notes in his quest journal about the spikes and the chest and a shield order from another guy who'd walked up while they were talking. A smith with grey skin, webbed hands and a dolphin's tail glared at him, saying, "If you're going to compete, you should pay for a booth."

  Stan looked over the array of axes and picks and armor bits on display. "Next time; sorry. I'm mostly doing upgrades rather than selling new items. Can I interest you in making your inventory even better?"

  He got another sale
that way. He had a lot to do now!

  When he got back to the workshop, a burly man in a leather apron and goggles was looking down at him. "I see you've been a regular user of our equipment. Good work in improving your skills. It might be a good time to open your own shop, or start contributing to our maintenance fund."

  Stan flashed through annoyance and surprise and guilt. The man's public info said he was the Master Craftsman, which didn't say PC or NPC. Stan bit back a sarcastic reply and said, "You don't have a mining pick to borrow. I could make one."

  "That's a start." The master went back to some alchemy work.

  Stan thought, Hmmph, so that's what a shakedown looks like. He was starting to get caught up in a different, higher level resource loop where he had to spend all his effort on getting and keeping better tools, especially if he got killed on some adventure. Soon he'd want an iron anvil in his own permanent hut, and he still wouldn't have a boat.

  He slept on that thought and dreamed of being surrounded and crushed by ever-growing clutter. Wealth could be a trap in its own way.

  * * *

  He woke up before his Slab could. On a hunch, he booted his Talisman pad to the title screen and said, "I want to look at the other software on here."

  A text-only menu came up. Besides language options and other settings, there was an entry labeled "Create Network" and another called "ARC". He clicked on the last one and saw, [Archive of Research and Culture, Maker's Mini Edition.]

  "One of those?" he said. He turned to the Slab and asked it about the ARC. The Slab hadn't been giving him much hassle lately; even the fonts and colors it used were more soothing now to represent it being pleased with him.

  The Slab brought up search results with an encyclopedia entry first. As Stan had vaguely heard, the ARC was a sort of apocalypse bunker of knowledge, meant to preserve famous books and science and other info in a form that needed only electricity to read. The concept had spread into a hundred varieties from print editions to rugged hand-cranked dedicated computers to free Internet downloads. At least some of those versions could probably survive any given disaster.