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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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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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I got what I was looking for. You want my brutally honest opinion of you?
[He's anticipating a no, of course.]
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Would you keep it to yourself if I said "no"?
[ It's half sarcasm, half genuine question. But he leans back further to let the spa water soak into his neck. Whether it's the conversation or just the healing properties here, he does feel marginally less tense. ]
Go ahead.
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[But he says so with a laugh. He'd rather engage Michel than not, as it turns out. Spending time with others isn't a universally shitty experience even if most people are more trouble than they're worth.]
Let's see...
[Scratching his chin, Yael turns, looks Michel up and down. Not checking him out, of course. Simply Judging.]
You're a better person than you think you are. You're young, [lol] but you've probably been through a hell of a lot. You carry yourself like someone twice your age. Maybe you're traumatized? Come from a bad family?
None of that's any of my business, but there you go. All in all, you're not too bad.
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Your "brutally honest opinion" sounds like a fortune-teller. Or a horoscope.
[ Just vague enough that anyone could project their own meaning onto it. Nevermind that every single word cuts entirely too close to the mark. Michel splashes a tiny bit of water sidelong at Yael, barely achieving more than making a small wave; it's hard to feign indignation when he can't deny most of it without lying, and at least Yael isn't asking for confirmation or details. Despite the cutting analysis, he doesn't feel his defensive guard returning. ]
"Young"? And just how old are you meant to be, oh ancient sage?
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[He wouldn't mind making up bullshit on the fly if the job paid well. Yael would like to think he has a pretty good read on people, but he's not omniscient. That splash of disapproval only furthers that notion, but Yael takes it with grace, lifting a hand to pat that mess of pale hair once more. He's the one who fucked it up in the first place, but that's not the point.]
29. One foot in the grave, right? That ought to give me some authority.
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In that field? You should hurry up and retire if you don't want it to be more than one.
[ Twenty-nine isn't all that old for service, all things considered. But the chiding tone slips out before he can quite stop it, misdirected as it is. He rolls his shoulders as if to shrug it off. ]
...You're hardly older than me. It undercuts your authority, just a little.
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I don't know any other life. You've seen what happens to veterans when they leave the service, don't you? They fall apart. Their lives lose structure.
[This is a concerning topic that Yael discusses in a perfectly flat monotone. It's fine. He doesn't have trauma, you have trauma.]
But I'm no fortune teller. Who knows what will happen in the future?
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[ Monotone is usually Michel's default. But whether it's the triumph of Yael's completely flat tone, or a product of his own voice going soft, he actually sounds like the more emotional of the two of them for just a moment. ]
...Who knows. I doubt you saw yourself here, a year ago. [ By Michel standards, this is optimism. Perhaps a little abruptly: ] Why did you join? For "structure"?
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Oh well. Yael is nothing if not a man who can make mistakes and admit to them when he does, so he'll persist, noting that momentary softness in Michel's voice and trying not to let it touch him.]
I joined because I had no other choice. The man who adopted me had certain expectations I had to meet if I wanted to live under his roof. I was pretty young when I joined, and I've been in active service until very recently. I've never known any other life.
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"Expectations"? For you to provide for yourself?
[ "Traumatized? Come from a bad family?" It wouldn't be the least surprising if Yael had been projecting right back at him the way Michel had for his own analysis. ]
And now you're on convalescent leave. I'm aware that it's not as simple as walking away, but...
[ But, Yael is really going to go right back to be injured again? Then again, Michel is in no position to chide someone else for wallowing in a self-destructive stasis. ]
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No need to finish that thought, Michel. Yael has considered it plenty himself, both while on active duty and on leave, but these last few weeks have been particularly illuminating. He's found a purpose outside of work, so he tentatively allows himself to think. Still...]
...It'll be a big change. I'll have to find a job that isn't completely mind-numbing, for starters. Any recommendations?
[He asks offhandedly, but hey. He's been giving this some actual thought, so Michel can at least be aware of that and worry a little less about a stranger he met on the internet.]
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Michel blinks in surprise and straightens a tiny bit. For a second he might well be validating Yael's tendency to treat him as if he's younger; in that flicker of relief, he actually holds himself like he's in his twenties, for a change. It's just good to hear that Yael actually seems to have thought about it. ]
Mm... "Mind-numbing" was one of the qualifiers I looked for in a job. [ So he's terrible for recommendations. ] ...If you're the type of person who truly couldn't stand being idle, you could teach self-defense. Something along those lines. I don't know what your role is now.
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Yael can't imagine looking for drudgery in a career, but not everyone is addicted to adrenaline rushes to the point where they barely feel alive without the constant threat of harm looming over their head. Some people are normal, or at the very least more normal than Yael.
He can't help but groan at the idea of sitting in an office and pounding away at a keyboard all day long. Talk about banal.]
Self-defense, huh? That's not a bad idea. [...] Will you be my first customer?
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[ But Michel looks thoughtful rather than dismissive — and, maybe, the tiniest bit pleased with himself that Yael didn't hate the idea out of hand. Perhaps a big change didn't have to be terrible...
Michel slouches against the tiles of the bath again, half-closing his eyes in thought. ]
...I'll consider it.
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[This game is pretty damn realistic, so it's worth a shot? He won't push Michel one way or the other, simply thankful for what was genuinely a solid suggestion. Speaking of thankful...]
Thanks. You didn't have to sit here and entertain me, you know.
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Michel is lost in thought for a moment, blinking his way back to reality when Yael speaks again. ]
I just happened to be enjoying the hotspring. But if you can find your entertainment without throwing things at my head...
[ Yael's company is almost pleasant, actually. ]
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old menpeople like Yael company, doesn't he? He likes Michel enough not to point out the glaring discrepancy between his words and his actions, because he genuinely is quite cute in his own way. Goddamn twinks, man.Yael can feel himself pruning, so he lifts himself from the water to sit on its pebbled rim. If he had a towel on at some point, he sure as hell doesn't know where the thing drifted off to. Oh well! They're both men, Michel will live. Just don't make eye contact with Yael Jr or make any sudden movements, Michel.]
You drive a hard bargain. I guess I can resist that temptation if you'll humor me again some time.
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