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⬣//A SINGLE CRACK LETS THE LIGHT IN.
As they say, fortune favors the brave. Five lucky players took part in a Limited Quest: The Mysterious Sky Islands, in which they discovered a brand new Root Town. While the team was largely successful in their efforts to make the mysterious floating town in the sky habitable, not everyone embraced the spirit of teamwork on this journey.
When you gate in to this shiny new Root Town, you'll notice something curious: it has no name. Its name simply displays as "???" in every context menu and there is no signage around the Root Town itself that points to its true name— rather, the name it had before they came along.
Whispers on the wind tell of an evil wizard in flowing white robes who ruthlessly boiled the village elder alive. With him died all of this mysterious Root Town's lore and history, and in its place are tales of the monster who robbed this land of its identity. The elemental sprites that populate this village refuse to speak their name, simply wishing you "good luck, have fun!" as you turn to leave.
While on your journey to check out the island, you'll notice how unstable the bridges are. Unstable might be putting it lightly, because for some unlucky souls, crossing the wrong bridge means plummeting to your death. It seems that whoever was put in charge of constructing these bridges didn't give a damn about structural integrity.
The local sprites are pleading with adventurers to assist them in building better, more stable bridges, but bridging the gap between one island and the next is not a job for a single person. If you have enough of a heart to heed the pleas of the sprites, you'll want to work with your fellow players to get the job done. All the wood, nails, and rope you need to construct better bridges has been helpfully supplied to you by the sprites. You could always sabotage the project too, of course, but what kind of person would you be if you did that?
The professions system has been added to fragment. Rejoice, busybodies, for there is much furniture to be built and dubious potions brewed.
In celebration of the new crafting & gathering system, a crafts festival is being held in the Unnamed Root Town. Take care not to plummet to your death while traversing those rickety bridges.
Players are encouraged to set up a booth of their own and trade their unique handcrafted items with their fellow adventurers. In addition to being supplied with enough level 1 and level 2 crafting materials to give the crafting system a spin, the local NPCs are running a contest encouraging people to come up with their own for a chance to have their creations canonized as real crafting recipes.
To submit your own recipe ideas, you need only fill out this handy form:
Recipe name:
Recipe category: Alchemist, Carpenter, Chef, or Jeweler?
Which two items does your recipe call for? Choose two items to combine. Only gatherable items (refer to the professions page) can be used.
Effect: What does this item do, if anything?
Description: A brief description of your lovely new product.
Fragment's beta test has seen its fair share of unusual bugs and unintended features, and with the latest update bringing many new changes, it's inevitable that some things have broken behind the scenes.
If two players happen to log in at the same time, they might find their avatars swapped with one another's. Thankfully, this issue doesn't lead to the unpleasant exchange of deep-seated memories or anything of the sort, but getting used to a body that isn't yours takes time. Thankfully, this particular bug resolves itself when both players log out.
The windy town of Unnamed Root Town is generally quite scenic and pleasant, but there's just one issue. It's far, far windier than it should be. If the rickety bridges don't kill you, the gusts that intermittently blow across the sky islands might knock you off your feet if you don't watch your footing carefully. Thankfully, the crafts festival on the southernmost end of the island hasn't been impacted by the severe winds. Among them is one voice that you don't recognize: a voice that promises a death, gruesome and bloody, in the days to come.
To everyone's relief, the carnival and its notorious hall of mirrors has packed up and left Lumina Cloth, but your past hasn't finished haunting you. The foul winds carry whispers of the past along with them, uttering words and phrases uncomfortably familiar to you. They're the voices of your past, the voices of people you've known, loved, and lost. Covering your ears won't keep the voices out of your ears. Nothing will.
Finally, on the more mundane some of things, professions have a few kinks of their own that need to be worked out. Occasionally, a crafted item won't come out quite right, instead resulting in one of the following "items":
Alchemist: Truth Serum. Become unable to lie for 24 hours.
Blacksmith: Whatever you're enhancing transforms into a denim disaster. Introducing your new "body" armor, "leg" armor, "head" armor, and "arm" armor.
Carpenter: Mirror Mirror. Reflects the person you're most afraid of becoming.
Chef: Durian Delight. A succulent durian pudding that reeks so strongly that its stench can be smelled all across the Root Town or Area you're occupying.
Jeweler: Crystal Ball. Breaks after one use but allows you to read another player's thoughts for five minutes.
With crafting in full swing, a certain admin has been lured out of his hidey hole by the smell of delicious chef-prepared meals. Hien is hungry, and you will feed him.
Chefs are not limited by the recipes they know like some professions are, so players are encouraged to think outside of the box and combine unique ingredients to cook up something truly special.
Taste, however, isn't the only important part of a perfect meal. Chefs looking to impress the big man himself are expected to present their culinary delights to him with pomp and finesse. You need to impress Hien if you want to gain more from this venture than the participation prize of a chef skin.
Those who successfully woo Hien with their delectable dishes will be given an additional prize: a little black pomchi pet to accompany their avatar around Root Towns and Special Areas. Hien will be giving these out at his discretion, so you better suck up to the dogboss in charge if you want a pomchi of your very own. If you catch Hien in a good mood, he may even agree to give you a different breed of dog if you ask nicely.
Hello, everyone! Can you believe it's been an entire month since our beta test began? Even though we've already been through a lot together, we've still got three months left! I'm rooting for you all!
As of today, the level cap has increased from 25 to 50. That means new armor and weapons will be available to you! Get out there to different Areas and start leveling up! But don't forget to stop every once in a while and enjoy your surroundings, too. Which reminds me—don't forget to check out the new Recreational Areas! We have a beach and hotsprings for you to enjoy now. I hope everyone continues to have fun exploring!
We've also opened up the GP shop, where you can create your own special armor set for a certain price, along with a few other things. Please check it out!
Oh, and don't forget to use these three new greeting cards I've made! Here they are! Make sure you use them so you can connect with your fellow players! We're all friends here, after all.
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A lack of expression is its own kind of expression.
[From one perpetually bored-looking man to another, trust him on this.]
If I asked you for the definition of "relaxed," you'd have to pull out a dictionary. That's how stiff you are.
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[ He's seen all the fake bastards in this game. And elsewhere. Although he does fold his arms over his chest, which might be considered relatively emotive for him, if the emotion is "mild defensiveness." ]
...Am I to believe that a virtual hotspring would be the cure for that?
[ Which might invite the question of what he's even doing here if not to try the hotspring. But then again, he's still in his full armor, so... it's anyone's guess. ]
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You can't cure someone who doesn't want to be healed... but your shoulders might feel better. Sitting in front of a computer all day is terrible for your back.
[Yael pats the water beside him like he's offering Michel a spot on the couch. Plap, plap, plap.]
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It's revoltingly hot for this as it is.
[ But after a lingering pause, maybe unexpectedly, he takes that invitation by walking into the spring in full armor to plop into the spot beside Yael. ]
...How is your leg?
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It's not that bad—
[—you big baby, but then Michel walks into the hot springs in full armor and just? Stews in his goddamn armor??? Whatever. It's fine. Shock doesn't linger long on Yael's face once the topic of his leg comes up.]
Better. I've moved on from crutches to a cane. It still aches all the damn time, but at least it's giving me a break right now.
[Could it be thanks to the hot springs...? Nah. No way.]
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Now that he's sitting, Michel will methodically unequip his gear and start tying his hair up before they're both consumed in the tide of floating white seaweed. ]
It's healing well, then.
[ "I'm glad," is almost implicit in his tone. But he's already gathering that Yael is Tough, Manly Man who would shrivel up if offered sympathy. Not that Michel can possibly imagine what it's like to be prickly about that. ]
Once that's done, I imagine your sojourn into gaming is finished?
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...But man, he wants to tease this kid. Bully the hell out of him for having the nerve to speak as if he doesn't give a damn when in reality he'd extend his concern even to a near perfect stranger. Just know that the temptation to tug on Michel's hair and tell him to mind his own damn business (affectionate) is there and only getting stronger the more time he spends with the guy.]
Should be, shouldn't it? I'll have better things to do than bum around online.
[That wasn't a very convincing answer, but you won't catch Yael admitting that he's grown to like this place and some of the people he's met in it. Mr. Tsuniepants should know the feeling.]
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Yael might not have been wrong about this being good for his tension. ]
If you don't already have better places to be than a game that's been having as many serious bugs as this one, you should ask your doctor for better painkillers.
[ The words might have the familiar touch of sarcasm like early winter frost, but that doesn't mean they're not serious. Michel lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. That wasn't convincing of Yael at all, but then... Michel is still playing this absurd game, too. ]
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Like a well-kept but entirely mundane secret, Yael looks to Michel and considers letting him in on the joke, but if there's any hint of a question on Michel's face, he'll simply laugh more.]
You're still playing it too, Mike. [that's his name, isn't it] That must mean you've made some friends.
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And he doesn't want to offer any encouragement to call him "Mike" ever, ever, ever again. ]
I'm not the one who ever claimed to have something better to do.
[ Than play a game with a greater than zero risk of putting someone in a coma. He's really not lingering to fuss over that part when he has a laughing Yael to look askance at. He's waiting with some exasperation to see if he stops, but there's no stifling curiosity, unfortunately. ]
...Just what are you cackling over?
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You. What else would I be laughing at?
[He just happens to think Michel is... what's the word? Cute? Something like that. Yael considers telling him as much, but he's having too much fun watching the curiosity arch across his face. You'll have to work for the answer, Mike.]
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[ Did Yael really think he wouldn't have something sharp to say in return? He puts his hand to the spring surface and idly splashes some hot water in Yael's direction... although, despite his aggrieved expression, it's not really done with enough force to splash Yael in the face.
Cough it up, muscleman. ]
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[He'd be linefacing even harder if he caught his own reflection in the water. It never fails to disappoint, this face of his.]
I was just thinking about how cute you are. No offense.
[...But the way Yael says it sounds borderline insulting. It's a gift, truly. A natural talent. Like king Midas in reverse, everything Yael touches turns offensive.]
1/2
[ It crosses his mind, very (very) briefly to wonder if he's being hit on, in that insulting manner insecure men use. But no. The meaning escapes him, but it's certainly not that. ]
2/2
...Please keep all bullshit out of the water.
[ Or at least get him a drink first. ]
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Right, right. My bad.
[Yael lifts a hand from the water and gently pats Michel's head, realizing only afterwards that he's trying to keep his hair dry. Oh well.]
Let me guess: you don't believe me? You don't strike me as the modest type.
[It's easier imagining a guy like Michel avoiding his own reflection in the mirror than preening in it.]
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He lifts one damp hand from the water to swat irritably at the arm reaching for his hair. ]
My modesty is not the issue. No man nearing thirty wants to be told he's cute.
[ As Yael very well knows and intends, his tone heavily implies. Although... honestly, the sound of his laughter isn't unpleasant. It's not as malicious as Michel was more than half expecting. ]
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Withdrawing his hand with a snort, Yael leans back against the pebbled rim of the bath.]
No? Not even by someone you fancy?
[Who's the deeply insecure man now? Yael smiles one of those rare, effortless smiles. It's not often that he enjoys the company of others, let alone those to fuss and bitch like Michel does, but there's an earnestness about people like him that never fails to charm him.]
Age has nothing to do with it. If I had my eye on someone, I'd be thrilled to be called cute by them. It's a compliment, you know.
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I'm positive that's not how you meant it.
[ The little crease forming between his eyebrows is the slightest bit at odds with the confidence of his assertion. It is, perhaps, remotely possible that not every word has barbs behind it. He'll consider it. ]
...Unfortunately, if you're hoping for someone who appreciates muscles, you'd be better off looking elsewhere. I'd be hard-pressed to call you cute.
[ However... he is a little cool. Michel manages to bite his tongue before the rest of that thought slips out, but he loses himself in momentary contemplation of Yael's avatar instead. He'd decided not to go completely overboard on his own, but Yael's sends him back to his envious contemplation of Didier's broad shoulders as a child. ]
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Besides, he truly does find Michel charming. No amount of sass and defensiveness that's sprung up as a result of a shitty upbringing could ever mask an earnest heart, and that's why Michel's every quip and insult rolls right off Yael's back. You'll have to mean what you say when you insult him if you want Yael to take offense, Michel.]
Well well, aren't you honest? No offense taken. We all have our types.
[Another laugh, brief but mirthful. He's been accused of much worse than being a muscle-brained brute, but it may come as some surprise to Michel that Yael's caught on to the way he's caged his tongue. There's a brain hidden somewhere beneath all this muscle.]
Go ahead. Finish your thought.
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He doesn't detect any deeper undercurrent behind Yael's easy laughter. But amusement directed at him is at least simple to understand, and in a roundabout sense, not even unpleasant. He closes his eyes and tips his head back against the tiles again. ]
We do, yes. I'm certain if you find heavy things to lift around the guild, you'll have admirers in short order.
[ There. His peace offering, without directly selling out Fai. His chest rises in a quiet sigh, and he opens one eye again to glance sidelong at Yael. Is he becoming that transparent? Those shoulders might remind him of Didier, but the contrast there is sharp. Quiet, somber, straightforward Didier. The gentle befuddlement, "what's gotten into you?" ]
I finished it exactly where I intended to. But if you're that curious to hear my thoughts on you...
[ If he makes that sound ominous, can he get Yael to backpedal? ]
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I have enough "admirers" staring at my ass every time I turn around.
[And if there is a god out there in the universe, Yael is thankful he sent an angel like Michel to, uh, not gawk at his ass. Thank you very much, mister god.]
Let's hear it. Don't cut me any slack.
[You'll never get a man like Yael to backpedal, Michel. Don't even count on it.]
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The struggle of being so popular.
[ Yeah, Michel wouldn't envy that in the least. Go with god, Yael. But he's quiet for a little longer while he decides if he actually wants to say anything. But if he doesn't, he would be the one backing down... ]
Fine. Then I would have said... cool, rather than cute. You look like you wanted to play a rogue. For someone who pretends to be so laid back, you don't hesitate to— [ make it clear that you've seen right through someone, ] —say things just to provoke others. I don't know whether you're hoping for a fight, or whether you just want everyone to know that you don't care what they think. But... you might be "nicer than you look."
[ No, he hasn't been waiting weeks to throw Yael's words back at him. Who would do that. ]
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People like Michel have this uncanny knack for seeing right through him. He really should stop hanging around these types.]
Is that so? [A bark of laughter, an amused huff.] Wow.
[He might've asked Michel to describe him, but in the process, Yael feels he's learned something about Michel too.]
You're petty, aren't you? I can see you being the type to hold a grudge. Honestly, that's pretty cute too.
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You did tell me not to cut you any slack.
[ All in the name of the tough man act, he supposes. Although Yael doesn't seem particularly bothered... Actually, that makes it sound as if he enjoys petty people. ]
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