Real-life intruded soon after, and the three of us logged off. I had given Linc and Hilly my cell number, and that evening – real-life evening – he texted me telling me that ‘bloody Survivor Jones is on every other channel, it seems like’ and asking if I could recommend anything to watch. I told him I was more of a reader, unfortunately. Hilly, who was added to the group, told us to watch Blood Soup, which was some kind of zombie show that had just started streaming.
The next time that the three of us logged on to BaS together, we found four NPCs waiting in Blade’s Rest. They were standing beside the vacant hut that I had made.
“The hell?” said Hilly, equipping her sword.
“Steady on,” I said.
“Who are these guys?”
There was a huge man who wore a leather apron over a white shirt, and he was standing next to an equally huge woman. In fact, she might have been a little bit bigger than him. Their children, two boys, were also big, and it was hard to gauge how old they were. Either way, there was giant blood in this family somewhere down the ancestral lines.
Despite their size, I didn’t pick up on any threats from them. An NPC was unlikely to attack a player unprovoked unless they were mobs, and a family was even less likely to do so.
This helped me relax and take them in a little better. With them they had a mule who was looking yearnfully at the fields of grass, as well as an open cart laden with what looked like all their belongings. They had crates filled with clothes, others filled with brass pans. Lots and lots of jars. And then there were metal lockboxes.
Drawing her sword, Hilly charged at the family.
Linc lurched after her, but missed, and slipped onto the ground. I helped him up.
As Hilly approached the huge man pulled a hammer off his cart, but his wife took a step in front of him.
“Think twice, little girl,” said the woman.
Hilly’s charge petered out, and she lowered her sword.
“You,” said the huge man. “This is village of your, yes?”
His accent was a strange one. Many city NPCs spoke in a kind of queen’s English ‘proper’ tone. Whereas this man had a definite foreign tint to his accent. Then again, in the digital game world, who was to say which of us were the foreigners?
Hilly glanced at Linc and me, and then back at the woman.
“This isn’t quite a village yet. But it is our hamlet. Yeah,” said Linc.
The woman pointed at the fourth hut. “Is not belonging to anybody, yes?”
Ah. Now I understood.
When I created the four clay huts, I had assigned one to Hilly, Linc, and I. This made them ‘player dwellings’, which meant that others couldn’t enter. It was useful to do this because it meant we each had a place where we could put some of our inventory without it being looted.
I had intended the fourth hut to be a jointly owned storehouse, but maybe there was an opportunity here.
“What do you wanna know about the hut?” I said.
The huge man stepped out from his wife’s shadow and raised his hammer and shook it in the air.
“I kill girl if she raises sword again!”
“You will not kill, Gorgal. Do not be a silly.” Then, she addressed us with a smile. “I am Frenrita and this is Gorgal. My children are Hanz and Franz. We are, saying in your language, helpers of murder.”
Hilly lifted her sword. “You’re helpers of murder?”
“Is the wrong word?” said Frenrita.
“I reckon it might just possibly be. What do you mean?”
“Gorgal. Show him.”
Grumbling, Gorgal took a step toward Hilly. He was so big that his boots looked bigger than anvils. I reckoned he must have to get them custom made. His hair was balding but the beard on his face was flourishing, a jungle of brown touched by grey that hid half of his face.
Gorgal held the hammer horizontally across his palms. “With this I make the weapons for the killing.”
“Ah. You’re a blacksmith.”
“Smith of the black. Yes.”
Frenrita patted the clay hut walls with her shovel-like hands. “We will offer the gold for this hut. And if you build bigger one, we will set up workshop.”
“You want to live here in Blade’s Rest?”
“No, not just live. Live and work. We will give ten of the percent of gold we make from death tools.”
Gorgal said something to Frenrita. I didn’t understand their language, but his grumbling tone was clear enough. Frenrita said something in rebuke, and then it seemed like the matter was settled.
“As I say. Ten of the percent for our work here. And for hut, we will pay one hundred-gold.”
“Let me speak to my…associates for a minute.”
“Yes,” said Frenrita. Then to Franz and Hanz she said, “Take Patti to grass. She needs to eat.”
“Yes, mother,” said the boys in unison.
The boys dutifully untied the mule from the cart and led the animal to the fields, where she began eating.
Hilly, Linc, and I walked a little away from the family, until we were sure they couldn’t hear us. Which was ridiculous given that they were NPCs, but that was the thing with full immersion – you started feeling like you were really there.
“What do you reckon?” I said.
“To what?”
“Their offer, obviously.”
“I reckon no,” said Hilly. “I thought we were gonna talk about how best to get rid of them.”
“Why wouldn’t you want them here?”
“I just don’t like the look of that guy. The last thing we need is a mad NPC hanging around the place.”
“Linc?” I said.
Linc thought about it. “We are building a town, after all. One of the later requirements is to have a blacksmith.”
“You’ve been reading up on it?”
Linc nodded.
“Even so. We don’t need a blacksmith yet,” said Hilly.
“No, but why pass up the opportunity?”
“I just don’t like the idea of selling this guy a house and then we can’t kick him out.”
I didn’t see any threat from the family, but I didn’t want to contradict Hilly as head of hamlet defense. Even so, I agreed with Linc on this. We would need a blacksmith later, so why not just get it done now, since a blacksmith was here on our doorstep?
The problem was, however, saying this without putting Hilly’s nose out of joint.
“How about this,” I said. “We counter their offer. Tell them we’ll rent them a couple of huts, but we won’t sell them outright. That way, we get a regular income while having the services of a blacksmith in Blade’s Rest.”
“Alright. Fine. But the mule stays in the field,” said Hilly.
“What? What’ve you got against mules?”
“One of my classmates got kicked by one on a field trip back in high school. I haven't trusted them since.”
“Ah, Hill. Mules are great creatures,” said Linc. “They’re clever, loyal, affectionate. You just gotta show them respect, and always stay in front of ‘em. Never behind.”
“I’ll go talk to them,” I said.
Hilly nodded. “And, you know. Check out the mule. See how vicious it is.”
We made a deal with Gorgal and Frenrita, leasing them one clay hut for 100 gold per week. I agreed to build a bigger hut to serve as a blacksmith’s workshop. That would cost 200 per week. Gorgal grumbled and Frenrita tried to haggle me down, but I stuck firm.
Building the clay workshop wasn’t easy. It needed to be much bigger than a regular hut, and I couldn’t yet modify craftplans too much. For a while I wondered how I’d get around this without having to grind my skill and rank it up.
Eventually, I thought of something that might work.
“Where do you want this?” I said.
“Near lake,” answered Gorgal. “With window that look on lake, please. I like to look on lake when I work.”
“You got it.”
I created two clay huts, placing them exactly side by side. Then, I got Gorgal to use his hammer to smash through one wall. Using wet clay, I joined the huts together at the edges of the missing wall, smoothing clay over to insulate it.
I used a crude chisel to cut out a window for him to look out, and then it was ready.
“What do you think?” I said.
Gorgal fetched Frenrita, who was busy unloading their things from their cart. She took a break and then, joining us in the bare workshop, stood with her hands on her hips and nodded approvingly.
“Good. Is good. Our very own workshop, Gorgal! No more work for boss.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” I said.
No sooner had I left the workshop, than I got a notification.
Blade’s Rest is now a Hamlet – Level 2!
- Blade’s Rest fame increased
- 3x hamlet reward boxes gained
- 300 exp received
Blade’s Rest still wasn’t listed on the world map. It was only a hamlet, and there must have been hundreds of them spread throughout BaS. The world map would get cluttered pretty quickly if each one was listed.
On the local map, however, it was represented as a blue house-shaped symbol. Upon leveling up, the symbol pulsed a few times, and faint waves crossed the map. I guessed that meant its map strength was wider now and it might attract more NPCs and players.
The hamlet reward boxes appeared on the ground in front of us. These were long and rectangular like footlockers but made from unvarnished oak. Nametags floated above them, indicating that there was one chest for each of us.
“Guys,” I said.
Linc had been inventorying his herbs in his hut, while Lilly had been using a hand-sized whetstone to sharpen her blade. They came over when they heard me call.
“You guys didn’t get the notification about this?” I asked.
“Oh. Yeah, I always leave mine to build up,” said Hilly. “I like to have lots of ‘em to go through in one sitting. Lemme check.”
“Cool, a reward box,” said Linc.
Linc sprinted to his and threw the lid open. He pulled a pair of foragers gloves, a basic field almanac, and a rolled-up poster with hundreds of plants drawn on it.
He studied it for a minute and then said, “Looks like if I put this poster up in my hut, it’ll slowly level up my foraging. Doesn’t even matter if I’m actually in the hut.”
“Right. Your own hut acts as a sort of base within a base for you. Whenever, you die in-game, you’ll respawn in your hut. It’s linked to your character now.”
Hilly took a different approach to her hamlet reward chest. She kneeled in front of it, delaying the moment of opening it.
“Bloody hell, Hilly, what are ya waiting for?” said Linc.
“Shut it! I didn’t get many presents when I was a kid. Once you open a present, it’s gone, in a way.”
“Well it isn’t gone. Y'know, because you get the present.”
“I know. But the anticipation is always better.”
“Just open the bloody thing!”
Finally she opened it, scoring for herself an instruction manual on basic sword maneuvers, a special sword sheath that always kept a blade sharp, and a leather chest piece that was tougher than her existing one and had the etching of a stallion scored onto the front.
She took off her armor and put the new piece on. “Whaddya know. A perfect fit. Funny how everything in this game always fits, huh? So…who wants my cast-offs?”
For a moment, the player in me eyed the chestpiece greedily. I only had fur chest armor, and this one was much better. But I need to remember what our roles were in Blade’s Rest.
“I reckon I’ll be spending more time in Blade’s Rest than you guys,” I said. “Whereas Linc’s gonna be picking daisies and stuff. He should take it.”
“Ah, I couldn’t do that, Josh. You should have it.”
“Alright then,” I said. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
“Uh…”
“What’s up?”
“You’re just gonna take it?” said Linc.
“Sure. You said I should have it.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. I was doing that thing where…”
I laughed. “You take the armor. I’ll be okay for now.”
“Well?” said Hilly. “Gonna open your chest?”
Seeing the decent loot that Hilly and Linc had gotten from their chests, I was excited to open mine. Rather than delay it and enjoy the anticipation, I threw back the lid and looked inside, only to find a few planks of wood and some screws.
“Huh?”
Hilly laughed. “I think you got short-changed, buddy. Did you piss off the AI?”
“This can’t be right.”
I lifted out the wood and the screws to see a slip of paper resting at the bottom of the chest.
“This is more like it,” I said.
[Small] Crafting Table - Assembly guide
Thank you for purchasing a BaS Corp crafting table! Please read the following instructions to assemble it. Precautions must be taken for safety, and remember - always…
The instructions went on and on, but I’d assembled plenty of flat-pack items. I moved apartments a year ago, and I had decided fresh start, fresh furniture. This involved a trip to a Scandinavian furniture shop, where I bought an apartment's worth of furniture that was overpriced, considering I had to assemble the damned things myself.
But anyway.
“This is a crafting table,” I said. “For crafting stuff that’s small to moderately sized.”
“You can already do that, can’t you?”
“Well, yeah, with improvisation, but a crafting table gives me way more options. And anything I make on the crafting table is automatically ranked average or above, relative to my skill. Also, it reduces crafting speed. I’m gonna put it in my hut.”
I took the crafting table to my hut and placed it by the wall. The place was already looking crowded, and I barely had anything in it.
Later, I planned on building myself a workshop to do all of my work in. Earning five crafting skills to become a builder was going to involve lots of work and lots of tools.
For now, I was concerned that I was just haphazardly placing buildings in the hamlet. I wanted to have more of a plan in place before I slapped another hut down. I didn’t like stuff being unorganized, yet part of me wanted to hurry, hurry, hurry and get this place built already.
But maybe I needed to be patient.
We’d barely even started on Blade’s Rest. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it damn sure wasn’t planned in one either.