The Crafting of Chess

by Kit Falbo

  It always feels awkward when the boss asks you to stay after. “Sure Sun.” I watch as the others leave the room. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I’ve put your name forward to run the EU release. It’s a small promotion, like my job but with a smaller support staff.”

  “I’m honored,” I say a little shocked. I just got this promotion.

  “You would have to move to the French offices, and there would be more overtime work once we get the multi-language translation system working. I know you would need to talk to your wife. I just wanted you to know, so you can have that talk.”

  “Thanks.” Sun pats me on the shoulder as he leaves me in the office alone, thinking of a possible future.

  Chapter Twenty - Chess

  Gramps is burning breakfast again. The smoky smell makes me wake up dreaming of working on staffs at the forge. There is another sound too. At first, I think it’s a kettle, but no, it is him whistling. He only ever did that when he made a decent score. It’s a tell for him, not that he’d ever do such a thing in an actual poker game. Though if he had won big, he would be whistling on the way home. It has been a while since I last heard that sound.

  After getting up and ready, I pop my head into the kitchen and dining area. “Good morning?” I ask, the question clearly in my voice. Gramps is sitting at the table waiting. The food set out is a grand display and would be impressive if it wasn’t for the quality of what is sitting on the table. Sunny-side up eggs with the top a little clear, toast still a little black on the edges with most but not all the char scrapped off. Thankfully, I’d talked him into using that microwavable precooked bacon, so that looked alright.

  “Come, boy, sit down. I thought we would have a family meal this morning. You are a growing young man, and it’s not good to eat and run or run out and grab fast food.” There’s enough cheer in his voice that I wonder if he met and got engaged to some wealthy old woman who had fallen for his more than slightly used charms.

  I ease into the seat across from him and try to select the most cooked eggs and least cooked toast to put on my plate. “You seem to be in an exceptional mood, Pa.” When I had headed off to bed last night, he’d been a little sad about being cut off until he sold some of his purchases.

  “After you went to sleep, I went out and did some online stuff and found a buyer for one of my pieces.”

  “That big one?” I ask hopefully, not wanting to look at it again.

  “No, one of the first ones I got. We’re supposed to meet up for coffee later this evening, so he can get an in-person look at it before purchasing it. Nothing big, fifty dollars over what I paid, but it’s a start.”

  It is nice to see Gramps excited. “I’m glad you’re happy.” I take a bite.

  He smiles and finishes up what’s on his plate. His cast iron stomach never seems to mind the food he cooks. “You look happier yourself, stronger from all that reactive room stuff, too. When you were younger, I was always worried you would just stay kind of sad.”

  I try to think back. I was kind of teary. It was hard moving around after my mom and dad died. I was always leaving my friends behind. I can’t even remember their faces now, but I was six. “My parents did die,” I point out.

  Gramps pauses. “You were sad even before that.”

  It’s hard for me to remember before that. Mom and Dad fought, but all parents fight. Did a fight in the car cause the crash? Just thinking that makes my heart beat faster.

  I try to push the thoughts aside. I remember being happy once when the class all signed my cast after some kind of accident. I was still a little weird but had a cool robot arm. “If you say so.” I get up and grab my jacket to go. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m working.” This just causes him to chuckle as I wave goodbye.

  Nearby, two additional reactive buildings are finally finished. There is still a small crowd here though. I’ve noticed that there are more players about in the game as well, even though most of them are out west doing the main quest line.

  I log in, check the auction results, then enter the game world. I’m a little surprised not to see Jasper, though he has said he feels useless while I’m working the forge. Remembering I gained two levels yesterday, I go to my displays. I can finally get more information on my companion’s status, and I’m a little curious. I can’t see his actual stats, that’s a bonus you get if he manages to survive until you hit level fifty.

  Jasper Fells, level twenty-six.

  Of course, he would be more than twice my level. His class is still listed as NA. I didn’t exactly have him fighting battles, stealing things, casting spells or any other traditional class work. Still, it is a little surprising nothing had stuck while he was running about the city. His profession shows up as intermediate Jack of All Trades. He only gets half experience from profession actions but receives boosts to related actions and skills. If I do get him in as a politician, I wonder if that will supersede this.

  I close the display and catch up on artificing some of my creations before I get back to work making more practice staves. I call Byron over when I’m ready to make the final product. “He wants the lightest staff possible.” I have all the ingots out, even some of the stuff Jasper had managed to acquire. It takes two ingots to make one staff. “You want to help me decide?”

  Iron variations and metallic ebony are out. They’re heavier than the rest. Fairthen Vein is the lightest. One of those unique things that Jasper had brought back from a job. It’s so light it feels like holding a balloon. The problem is, I suspect it would only amount to a single ingot if we melt it down.

  We toss it into the crucible to see how much we can get, melting the raw chunk and let the impurities separate before pouring it into an ingot mold. Just enough for one. I doubt the game would actually allow for a little bit more or only a little bit less. “Any way we can maybe combine two metals?” I ask. Using one ingot of fairthen vein will cut the weight of the final project in half.

  “If they’re compatible. Of course, if you pick wrong ones, the metals are rendered useless in the process.” It seems like he might want to say more.

  I give him a grin and wave the large bar in front of his face, tempting him.

  “There is a way. wizard enchanters can figure out if things combine well.” He says with a heavy dose of reluctance in his voice. “But I don’t know who we could ask.”

  I pick up an ingot, press it against the Fairthen and look at both the items’ properties. Technically I am an enchanter and have achieved the intermediate level of that profession, so maybe this will tell me something.

  No notifications or hints pop up for me. I look to Byron. “I have a few avenues I can look into. Hopefully, I can figure this out.” I gather up the ingots what we decide are the next best bet for lightest materials and put them into my bag and head out.

  I make for the nearest player lounge. I doubt there is much info online, but more and more players have started crafting. Lady Else and her abilities will be my last resort. I’m not even sure her abilities will work in this manner, and I’m shy about the price.

  The lounge is a hive of activity with players bragging about skills, stats, their latest pieces of gear. I catch snippets of your mother jokes and the best way to take down whatever a bull haunt is. I sign in for kiosk usage and wait my turn to access the internet.

  There is almost nothing on what I wanted. Someone had mixed iron and gold ingots to disastrous results, but iron and silver work and give benefits against certain monsters. I file that fact away in my head, but there is nothing on the funny metals I’m working with. There are private groups: one for smithing and another for enchanting. Both require proof of your skills with a screenshot. I think shouting “Hey, I’m Chess!” would end up more a headache than provide answers.

  Hephesty and Mervlin are much more public players than me though. They actually take custom jobs. It isn’t easy to get real money for custom work, which is why I stick to the auction house. But they do take
crafting materials and gold straight from players to create, something I don’t do. It doesn’t take long for me to find out they’re operating out a smithy at one of the makeshift player cities along the front lines.

  There is a wait for teleporting at one of the tents outside the lounge. There are three tents set up for it, but each of them has roughly the same length lines. The mage managing the teleportation looks a little bored. “Khol’s forge at frontline town, please.”

  He looks me up and down. “The frontlines are a dangerous place if you’re not prepared for it.”

  “I just have some business there. It shouldn’t take long.”

  He gives me a look that implies it is my funeral. His hands glow in front of me and it feels like I’m standing before a heater. “It will be ten gold because you’ve never been near that location before.” His tone says I probably don’t have the money.

  I hand him the coinage and moments later find myself stumbling forward elsewhere. The familiar sound of hammer and anvil work helps me steady myself. There is, of course, a line here as well. A short blond woman is at the end of the line. She held a ledger and quill. “Pick-up or are you here to make an order?”

  “I actually just want to get a word with Mervlin.”

  “Consultations are fifty gold or the equivalent in crafting materials and last ten minutes. I can squeeze you in about six days from now.” I let out a low whistle. I have the money, but after paying the ten-gold fastport fee, I’m not sure I have that amount in my bag. Fifty gold is a lot. It’s the cost of a week’s play if you’re using in-game funds to cover it. I have the bank automatically tithe two hundred from my account to the church each month.

  I sometimes get gold from my auctions, but I prefer cash. I’ve set up one of the lowest cash-to-gold ratios in the game so players will be more interested in saving their gold to cover the monthly fee and spending cash on my items. Ten dollars is worth one hundred gold to me, so a player has to bid 101 gold to beat a ten-dollar bid.

  For me, saving gold to covering the monthly fee just makes more sense. “I have crafting materials. Hephesty and Mervlin know me, it would be nice to see them today.”

  She gives me a little glare, “If you know them you should have sent them a private message.”

  “Yeah, you’re holding up the line!” someone yells from behind me, causing a grumbling there.

  Once that quiets down she continues, “M and H are very busy people.” Oh god, I think I may have to go see Lady Else again.

  Lucky for me, either Mervlin and Hephesty are taking a break, or they’ve come over to see the commotion. “Chess!” they yell as they see my face and make their way over.

  Upon hearing my name, the crowd pushes forward and starts to stare at me. Mentally I can hear them all taking screenshots as they all get the messing with their interface looks to them.

  Mervlin and Hephesty clap me on the back. “You going to be offering us jobs to assist you this time?” Mervlin quips.

  I feel myself giving a sheepish grin, remembering how early on they had offered that to me.

  Unlike me who still prefers my forge leathers and only a few items like my shoes to help with crafting, Hephesty and Melvin are decked out from head to toe in sparkling, enchanted gear, more garish than stylish. That is more of a burn at me though because I recognize more than a few pieces I had artificed and put up on the market. I suppose at fifty gold per consultation they can afford to splurge past whatever money bid was on an item. “You’re looking plenty successful. I was actually hoping to check with you about a project I’m working on.”

  “Sure,” Mervlin says, and they escort me away from the crowd to the back of the shop. “It’s good to have a solid relationship between the Touched crafters in this world.”

  “There is a project I’m working on that I need some advice. I heard that some enchanters can tell if you can combine metals without destroying them. Since I don’t have the skill myself and I’m not exactly friendlies with the guild, I thought I would check here.”

  Hephesty is grinning, “You’re in luck. Mervlin here went and got trained after his last profession boost. Took him like three days and five hundred gold, though.”

  Mervlin motions for his friend to calm down a little. “It’s not like I can just open up our notebook on metals that combine well. We got to have some surprises since I can’t artifice like you can.”

  “I just want help with one thing.” I pull out the Fairthen ingot, “I’ve got several others that I want to see if I can combine with it in a crucible.”

  “May I?” Mervlin asks.

  I nod and hand it to him.

  He turns it over, looking at it. “It’s amazing all the unique or rare crafting materials in this world.” He lets out a short sigh. “Show me what you’re considering combining it with?”

  I pull them out one by one. Both their eyebrows start to rise until they look suitably impressed.

  Hephesty coughs, “You interested in sharing where you got those. We’ve managed to acquire some ore, but not enough for an ingot.”

  I think of Gar. “Not really mine to share. I’m only able to use them for this quest currently. I would appreciate if you can tell me if any of these will work with the Fairthen ingot. “

  Mervlin touches the ingot to each one. A spark of color shows in his eyes as he does. Out of the seven I pulled out of my bag, only two are compatible. The first is the alurite that I had used for the Order of Knights blade. The shiny white gold metal glows with light, which is appropriate; it added quickness and a blinding effect to the blade I had made for him. The other is a new one called coral, presumably because of its pinkish color. Enchanting it would increase utility. Since that didn’t seem very offensive in nature, I had always figured I would use it more for a future armor project. “These two,” Mervlin says with confidence.

  I start putting them back into my bag. I leave out the metallic Ebony ingot and hand it to them. “Thanks. Take this for helping. My next few options to figure this out were less than fun, or I could have risked a combination that would destroy my resources.”

  They send two friend requests, and I blink in surprise. “Just in case we ever need to talk shop.”

  I accept them, in part just not wanting to be rude after they helped me. “Sure. I should get crafting. These things don’t make themselves.”

  There is still a crowd as I leave the smithy. In fact, it looks bigger than the line had been when I arrived. I hear, “Hey Chess, you going to start doing commissions too?” and a few cries of, “Join my guild!”

  I yell, “Auction house as always.” then try to ignore the rest, making my way to the nearest teleportation booth. Halfway there I get the notification that Noxtimus has completed the quest I had given him. It actually rewards me some experience to have a quest I have given out get completed. “Woah, he did it,” I mutter under my breath while wondering if he had actually managed to kill Chatwin.

  I wait in line and notice some players from the smithy have followed me.

  “Military quarter,” I tell the mage, giving her one gold. I log out as soon as I transfer, unsure if the players are going to try to follow me. My heart is beating a little fast as I find myself in the reactive room. H&M may like those crowds, but I’m not interested in having a bunch of players show up where I work begging for me to make them things.

  With twenty minutes until lunch should be delivered, I make a run to the bathroom. This time I can maybe eat mine hot. After lunch I log back in, I look around and see no one waiting. Probably just paranoia. The mage had sent me just outside one of the entrances to the quarter that holds both the orders of Knights and Officers along with several other groups. I enter and start to make my way towards the compound the Officers are using.

  I see bits of fire damage here and there, leftovers I guess, from that smoke I’d from the Spellworks tower the other day. I turn the corner to the office and barracks area for the Order of Officers, only to see it is destroyed and Officers are
clearing the cool rubble. I interrupt one in their work. “What happened here?”

  “A fire. Some say Demons; other’s say the general went on a bender.”

  “He die?’

  The man laughs, “He may be crazy, but he’s tougher than that.”

  “You need a hand with anything? I helped out a bit last week and was just coming back to check on things.” Not exactly true, but not a lie.

  He looks me up and down. “Yeah, you’re one of the ones that saved me from stable duty. Don’t see many Touched willing to shovel shit or even work for anything. Grab a shovel; we could always use extra hands. I’m Leon by the way.” I get a quest accepted notification, interesting because Leon hasn’t actually asked for help. Not that this is the type of work most players would volunteer for; I doubt the experience alone will be worth it.

  I spend the next half hour working until I finally get a quest complete notification as Leon decides to take a break and I join him. “Do you know where General Chatwin is? I still have some business with the head of the order.”

  Leon shakes his head a little sadly. “Chatwin’s gone. Retired after this mess. The man is a hero, a fighter, but being here and not fighting is a wound that was just hurting him day after day. There was a rumbling about him formally leaving this morning, and he actually did it. Volunteered to help the effort to contain some rogue Touched that have been harassing and killing citizens in the country. “

  “Sorry. I know some Touched can be a little not caring.“ I look around at the destruction. I know is probably my fault. It’s so real I can’t help but feel bad.

  Leon looks a little surprised at my apology. “Well, you’re showing they aren’t all bad.” This just causes me to flush a little more. “General Maye is now the interim head of the order, though I can’t imagine they won’t make it official. I’ll walk you to him.”

  The senior Officers have set up a makeshift shaded command center where their small practice area is. The general is a large man, wide and tall but more muscle than fat. He has close-cut white blond hair making him look almost bald. He’s active and engaged with a construction crew and bending over blueprints. “I don’t care if it’s not in the budget. I would say this fire allows us access to some of the city’s emergency funds.”