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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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(It's easier to not know, after all, and simply be acquainted strangers, but this is not the time for that.)
Maybe it's the distress in his voice that melts Owen's icy heart, but he finds himself reaching out and grabbing the back of Fandaniel's robes, knowing that the drop will kill him.]
This isn't the time to not be paying attention to where you're going, either.
[Even if he'll just come back, would it be worth it to die to something that isn't even real? Or so he assumes. He's not immune to the whispers in the wind, but most of what he hears means so little to him it's easy to ignore in the moment.]
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Recognition at the last moment sparks across his face and the anger drains. It's Owen, only Owen, it's... ]
I suppose... no. No, it isn't.
[ The arm lowers, falling limply back to his side, and then he lets out a laugh. It's bitter, miserable, lacking any of the amused clown energy he often carries about with him. ]
Sorry about that. I seem to have lost my way.
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[He waves off the apology, tilting his head as he watches Fandaniel. He doesn't seem all that bother by the attempt to strike him - he barely even flinched at the reaction, as if he was expecting something far worse.]
Tell me, who were you chasing? Someone the wind has brought along?
[Curiosity killed the cat, but Owen has already died too many times in this game to care about that being the worst outcome.]
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A familiar voice on the wind, nothing more than another trick of the game.
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[He can try to play it off, but now Owen’s curious. What kind of secrets does a ridiculous clown like Fandaniel have?]
It must have been someone you played with often - a childhood friend, perhaps? A sibling? Someone you miss incredibly dearly…?
[Prying like that is risky, especially so close to the edge of the island. Nothing’s stopping Fandaniel from just… pushing him off.]
Though I suppose it could be a very convincing stranger. I’m not sure where these voices are meant to be from, exactly.
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But it isn't as though he had to save him. Why had he done it? So he could poke fun at whatever had left Fandaniel into such a manic chase or...? ]
My little sister.
[ He decides, fine, he'll relent. He answers the question but not without a grimace and a step back, putting a little more space between himself and Owen. ]
The wind sounds like her, like when we used to play hide-and-seek out in the fields.
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And that has you incredibly worked up.
[He stays where he is, crossing his arms over his chest and making a lazy gesture.]
Has it been a long time, since then?
[His eyes narrow, the cogs turning in his brain.]
Do you miss her?
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Nineteen years now. I miss her more than anything.
[ Which isn't to speak poorly of his parents. He misses them, too, but they had a chance to live a life. They saw the world, fell in love, built a home, started a family. His poor sister, though... ]
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But missing someone and not speaking to them for 19 years can only mean one thing - that it’s impossible to, which likely means that she’s dead. Entirely possible there is some other circumstance, sure, but the odds of anything else are slim.]
I’m sure it doesn’t need to be said you won’t reunite with her if you walk yourself off of these islands, no matter how the wind sounds.
[Strange it seems to be so targeted for just about everyone else. Owen’s not sure what the deal is.]
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[ There's a sudden burst of anger from Fandaniel. As if he didn't know! As if that wasn't obvious! He should know better than to give Owen any large show of emotion and yet it still bubbles out of him, like lava, burning and blistering.
But if that anger is anything to go by then, yes, Owen likely has it right about why it's been nineteen long years. ]
Do you think I was running about not realizing how stupid it was?! [ He turns partly away, waving an arm out into the empty sky beyond them. ] That the wind was merely trying to get me to fall to my death?! That doesn't matter! It's been nineteen years! Nineteen years since I've heard... since I've heard her sound happy... as opposed to that awful book...
[ Where all he heard was screaming, dying, the end of his family, and the brief time where he was actually happy. ]
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Calling Owen heartless might not be much of a stress, or so it seems that way, with how he just tilts his head, humming in thought.]
Why chase after the memory instead of letting yourself enjoy it? You know she's not here, but can you not just close your eyes and remember instead of being swept up in the frenzy of something that wants to destroy you?
[That's what Owen assumes is the reason behind so many of the game's little... oddities. It all seems so malicious, so pointed, that it feels more like someone is doing a study to see how people react to having their trauma shoved in their face then trying to make a VR MMORPG.
The winds continue to blow, continue to whisper, but Owen remains seemingly cool and unaffected by whatever it is he's hearing. Heartless, detached, broken... Maybe that's what it is.]
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Fandaniel's rage falters, his anger sputtering, and his expression falls. Tired, he's so tired. He can still hear her, giggling and playing. It's easy to imagine his sister just around the bend, out of sight, alive and well.
It breaks his heart more than anything. ]
...I am aware. [ How quickly that rage burned out, but it's for the best, isn't it? ] That is what I should be doing, only it feels that every time I think I have buried her and my family, something new decides to rip that wound wide open.
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Isn't that just how it goes?
[Life is just the same wounds getting picked open again and again and again until it becomes either unbearable or possible to ignore. Pain never truly goes away, it just becomes tolerable.]
…Have you just been trying to forget the pain of it? Forgotten things will never stay that way.
[He would know.]
But I’m not about to tell you how to handle your grief. You’ve had nearly twenty years to find out how to cope, so I’m not sure any sympathy I tried to show would make a difference.
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[ He doesn't want it, Owen, and he isn't going to ask for it. Even if that is what life is, how can he bear it forever? Why will nothing salve the pain and soothe how angry he is at it? ]
But yes, that is just how it goes. I'm hardly the only person around struggling or suffering from some woe or another.
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You’re not.
[However.]
That’s no reason to just… [He waves a hand.] Stubbornly dig your heels into your misery. Don’t you want better for yourself?
[What’s the point if you’re just dwelling on things that happened decades ago?]
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It isn't as though I haven't tried to move on, you know, but things simply keep... coming up, I suppose.
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Doubt anyone was expecting to hear things they shouldn't be in virtual reality, but you were a child when it happened...
[And things that happen when you're a child leave deeper scars.
Not that Owen has any experience with that! Definitely not.
Anyways, that's enough doom or gloom.]
Well, perhaps it may be best to spend your time in the game elsewhere until they inevitably patch out the ominous whispering.
[But if Fandaniel wants to stick around that's his problem.]
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A leftover with no place to go, nowhere to belong, wanted by no one. ]
It is that easy, isn't it? Perhaps I should go run some Areas instead... or work on decorating my room at the guild...
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There's a lot of busywork you could be doing instead of dwelling on the past.
[The cliché would probably be to say something about "do you think your sister would want this for you?" but - that's just empty words, and who even knows what his sister would have wanted? She was young when she died. She might not have even had a concept of death.]
Do you need someone to make sure you don't fall off?
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[ A hand goes to his chest, feigning surprise, surprise! Gasp! ]
Are you going to sweep me away on some fanciful adventure to do... [ Busywork, he says, let's see. ] Taxes? Chores? Beating the tower's rugs out?
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[Fandaniel is lucky his obnoxiousness makes him charming and irresistible.]
I was thinking inventory management. Sorting through useless loot drops is a great way to get your mind off the horrors.
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Who's inventory? Because mine is perfect in every way.
[ Sorry, Owen. He's already painfully organized. It's obsessive at times, how clean he must keep his inventory (and his apartment in reality, too). ]
I suppose a dungeon run would be just as distracting. Give me some new loot to sort, hmm?
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[Because he has far more stuff in the game then he does in reality, and not much of an idea of what to do with half of it.]
Perhaps we can put a dungeon run on the backburner, hm?
[He's not about to get killed by intentional friendly fire, here.]
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And, pray tell, how do you expect me to do that? I can't exactly look into your inventory, Owen.
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[♥]
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