by Harley Vex
A cluster of floating leaves, minus branches or a tree trunk, slowly pops out of existence maybe fifty blocks away.
Then I spot the globs of lava on the ground. Orange, animated, and pixelated, they make seething noises as fires, a series of animated yellow and orange pixels, spring up around them and die, leaving patches of bare Common Dirt among the grass.
Heart pounding, I run towards it.
The orange coil itself is gone. It must be a mini-volcano, erupting and offing itself whenever it sees enemies. There's a nice big patch of Common Dirt where the grass has burned away. Yeah. It was standing right there, between me and that cave. The monster just destroyed itself to destroy me. What a great life it must have.
My stuff.
What happened to my stuff?
I slow and skid to a stop. I spot my Flint Hatchet on the ground along with two Common Logs, but my Sifter, Common Leaves, and Sticks all seem to be gone. Oh, and I still have that useless Pure Sand. I pick everything up in a rush as the heat from the fires and spread-out lava splotches assaults my skin, hoping I figure out the auto pickup feature soon. Yeah. I've lost half my inventory, probably to these lava splotches and the little fires.
"Well, we know what the least favorite monster is going to be," I grumble.
A nearby tree catches fire, with flames dancing over some Common Leaves. Quickly I equip my Pure Sand block, not knowing what else to do since I don't see my Flint Hatchet in its usual spot on my hotbar, but I have to stop this fire from spreading and ruining the whole area. I place the Pure Sand block over the fire, which hisses as it goes out.
And to my amazement, the Pure Sand, instead of obeying gravity, instantly morphs to a transparent pentagon with a grayish-blue border and lines through it.
"Did I just give this tree a monocle?"
It's a glass pane.
I've discovered something new.
I place the Pure Sand over the other little fires and the lava, and both have the same effect. Glass. Glorious glass. The fire and lava vanish each time and once they're gone, the temperature drops. I imagine there must be an easier way of making glass, like some kind of oven I can make.
Otherwise...
"Windows. A dangerous business since 2027."
But at least I can pick the glass up with my bare hands by "breaking" it. Even though it shows a breaking animation when I punch it, the glass drops whole.
But I'll find the uses later.
I've got to get a base going so I don't spend another night in that cave with nothing but a Hostility score of 70 to keep me company.
* * * * *
No one yanks me out of the game during that day cycle and chastises me for falling victim to a lava coil.
So I decide to build my base near the bottom of the cliff I found, the one with the greenish ore on the side that I still can't mine.
Three reasons:
1.) The cliff looks awesome and has potential for inventions.
2.) It's far away from that cave opening.
3.) It's even farther away from the Northern Swamp.
And I work quickly now that I know what to do.
I make a new Sifter and then a couple more hatchets, since one Flint Hatchet is only good for cutting down a dozen trees before it breaks. And before I know it, I have a whole collection of logs, which stack to 99 in my inventory.
And with that, I refine Common Logs into Common Planks. Literally, I just place them in my Crafting Tab and viola! Six Common Planks come out of each Log.
My new Sifter seems to last forever as it has no durability bar. I place it outside of the small house I'm building from the Planks, right against the outer wall.
By the evening of that day, I've got four walls set up in a rectangle, but no roof, and four small, pentagon-shaped windows from the eight Glass Panes I've collected.
"You are making progress, Wattleman," I say, ducking through the door-shaped opening I've left myself. "Basic stuff, almost done. Then you can get to the fun stuff."
The sun sets, and the big stars come out overhead and slowly drift. It gets very dark in my not-so-creative house. But I'm not much into pretty constructions. It's an area where I lack talent.
I shiver.
It's cold in a roofless house.
And I'm also still hungry.
I doubt the Ghouls and the lava coils can climb walls, but I can't be too careful. I spend the night crouching and peeking out the windows, ducking low in case monsters can see through glass, and keeping close to the wall in case something spawns on top of that cliff. I haven't built my house close enough for something to drop down on me from that height, but I'm close enough for something to see me from up there. It'll be interesting to know if any other mobs are stupid enough to off themselves. The ghouls are likely dumb enough and I already know about the lava coils.
Some mobs do spawn in the distant Scattered Forest, but nothing comes near my hiding spot, probably thanks to the solid blocks. I spot a few tall things that look like Ghouls, outlined against the stars, and a pair of those lava coils hopping around. Turns out they give off a faint orange glow at night.
The Hostility score here is 37. Not as bad as the border of that swamp. Fewer mobs seem to be spawning and the ones here don't seem to be bloodhounds, but there could be other factors keeping them away.
The hiccup-scream of an injured ghoul sounds behind me and I whirl, looking through the other window at the cliff. It's official. They're stupid enough to walk off cliffs, which I can also use to my advantage. The ghoul stands there, advancing towards the house from maybe twenty blocks away, and I guess that it saw me from above and dropped down after me.
My stomach rumbles and my status bars rise into my vision.
Can Putrid Flesh be turned into fertilizer? That's the only use I can think of for it, other than feeding tamed animals like Goats.
I've got to try it, because now my Calories bar is down by two-thirds.
I hack away two Common Planks to make a doorway and charge outside at the injured ghoul. As the sun slowly rises, I can see that this one is brown instead of green-blue—a Common Ghoul, probably—and it dies with one swing of my Hatchet, dropping its Putrid Flesh. A second ghoul takes a suicide dive off the cliff, following the first, and I dispatch that one, also brown, and pick up its drops.
Something flutters above me and in the distance.
I turn to face it.
A gigantic moth, black against the pink morning sky, flutters aimlessly above the trees in the distance. Instinct takes over and I run back through the makeshift doorway of my house. I've got to get some farming going, yes, but first I'm going to need a roof.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I figure out how to make roof panels in my Crafting Tab. Common Roof Panels are pretty much flat planks and I can make six by putting three Common Planks in a diagonal formation. Turns out they make a good angled roof but after the incident with that orange coil thing, I know they're in danger of burning. Still, it's better than nothing.
"And now, the Mike Wattles House of Mediocrity," I say, spreading my arms before my creation.
Well, I do have Common Logs as outer corner trim so it's not completely the same color, but other than that? Bleh. I will not impress anyone with my matching Common Plank roof on top of the plain Common Plank rectangle. But that's not what I'm here for, I remind myself.
But at least, over the next couple of in-game day cycles, I learn how to make other tools through the art of experimentation. Flint Chisel? I get that by combining a stick and a Flint Shard, one above the other, without Plant Twine. Flint Backhoe? Two Common Sticks, a Plant Twine, and one Flint Shard in the general shape of one. Flint Shovel? Two Common Sticks in a vertical formation, then two Plant Twine on the top row and a Flint Shard between them. That last one takes me a while to figure out as it's not as intuitive.
"Now this has promise." I stand in my house and raise my new Flint Hammer as the sun rises on yet another day. "This just might break stone or put an even bigger
dent in that lava coil's face."
My stomach rumbles again, more intense than ever, but when I pull up my status bars I see that Calories has slowed its downward march. I've got a bit more than a quarter remaining. But my health hasn't recovered past that final one-eighth, either. The slowdown is a strange mechanic but I'm glad I won't have to worry about food constantly.
But constantly is the thing.
I still need to worry.
And the time for that is now. Something will happen if my Calories bar drops too low.
I exit the house, using the actual Common Door I made in my Crafting Tab (six Common Planks in two columns of three) which opens with a charming click sound. The pink sky is rapidly turning to blue. I must be on Day Five or so by now. I eye the ore in the cliff, but decide to go to the swamp first to see if those stupid ghoul things have left any drops for me to scavenge.
Because overnight, I figured out how to make a Common Trapdoor, a Fence Post, and a Compost Bin just from trying different combos of Common Planks. And if there's anything I can compost, it's Putrid Flesh. I've figured out that refinable items can either be refined in my Crafting Tab, or on some placeable utility block like the Sifter.
If Putrid Flesh passes the Yuck Test, have I got an idea for a mob trap.
The land slopes downward to the Northern Swamp and I spot a few bones and pieces of that disgusting flesh on the ground, but no living Swamp Ghouls. The only ones spawning now must be underground, and so far I've only seen them spawn in water, in the dark. I pick up the drops and slowly turn.
"So, The House of Mediocrity is about a hundred blocks from here," I mutter. "I was there all night, which means mobs can spawn at least a hundred blocks away from me. And there's a small pond just inside the Northern Swamp biome."
Aha.
Lightbulb moment.
I'm about to talk about the next part of my plan when a dark, fluttering form from above makes my heart stop.
I look up, glimpsing blocky, yet pointed green wings just ten feet above my head. A moth with a body the size of me descends, blowing wind against my face, and each time it spreads its green wings, I see another grimace in its dark spots.
"I hope you're passive." I haven't checked the area for leftover night mobs well enough.
An ear-splitting screech fills the air.
Nope.
I duck under one of the Common Trees as the monster emits a sound worthy of an alarm clock and shoots a pixelated ball of green goo at me. But it lands with a hiss on some leaves, spreading out despite hanging over air and dripping particles onto the ground. The acid stuff only lasts a few seconds and misses me by inches, but the leaf block it struck has just vanished, dropping nothing.
Great. A ranged mob. And at some point I switched my tool to...my shovel. But my hotbar's up and I tap my Flint Hammer with my free hand. A new weight makes me drop my right hand as the shovel turns into the hammer.
"Come at me!"
And the moth lowers.
It can't fit under the tree with me or touch the ground. Instead, the monster flutters there, waiting, exposing its bottom half.
"Who has their pants down now?" Gripping the Hammer with both hands, I swing. Thunk. While slow, the Hammer has great knockback. The moth flashes red and flies back several feet with an even louder than normal screech.
And it stays there, hovering in place, waiting for me to emerge.
It's a lot less stupid than the ghouls.
And now if I run, it'll let me know what dissolving in acid feels like.
"Think, Mike," I mutter, wishing I'd done more combat. But I stay under the tree, which I name Camp Coward. The moth remains. We're having an Old West standoff and one of us needs to march forward.
"Don't run." Shaking, I emerge from under the tree, clearing my vision of leaves and facing the monster head-on, hoping to draw it back to me. Its eyes are black pentagons. Its body, segmented and brown. Somewhere, a Duck quacks.
Another ball of green crap sails at me without warning.
And before I can back under the tree, it strikes.
Heat flares and red flashes. It rivals what I felt with the fire. I step back, out of a floating block of green stuff, as everything flashes red and I keep taking damage. The tree. Camp Coward. I belong there. My health bar drops lower and lower, past half, as I take shelter. Then it stops and the heat vanishes.
My Health and Calories are both now a quarter full.
No. It's even worse. My Calories bar drops to just below that, but I don't heal. So taking damage depletes it. My knees start to shake and my arms feel like rubber.
And a cartoon icon of a hand with shaking, squiggly lines around it appears in the upper right corner of my vision, and stays there. A status effect, probably Weakness or something, thanks to being so hungry or low on health.
I lift the hammer as the moth finally draws close to my tree again. It's gained ten pounds or maybe that's just the Weakness.
"Think, Mike."
If I take another hit, I'm dead.
Without a thought, I charge forward and swing with my hammer again, taking advantage of that pause between slimeballs. I grunt with the effort, but I hit the moth and this time, the creature falls to the side, reddening and exploding into dust particles.
I breathe out and curse.
"This heavy Flint Hammer just proved itself." I try to calm down since my heart is racing. Two hits. It's heavy and the knockback is a disadvantage with ranged mobs, but it deals a lot of damage. Then I straighten and check its tooltip in my inventory.
Flint Hammer
Strength: 2
Attack: 7 (10 Critical)
Speed: -3
Health: 150/150
Calories: -5
Well, that explains at least part of the Calorie drop. And I might have scored a critical hit by charging with this weapon or hitting the moth in the right place.
I close my inventory, wondering what to do next. Two drops lay on the ground: a green, rectangular plate looking thing and what looks like a spool of silk. I take them both. A Dreadmoth Plate. Refinable. And just plain Silk. Not refinable. I imagine both are good for making armor, given their names.
Which I am going to need, right along with food, because the lack of both are becoming an issue.
Somewhere in the nearby swamp, a Duck quacks and floats on top of the gross water. I swim out, kill it with my Hammer, and pick up the Raw Duck now floating on top of the water. "Wow, I am glad Salvos didn't make drops sink." I'm hungry, but not that hungry. And the Northern Swamp is complete with muck that I can feel under my boots.
Shivering, I wade back out of the water. I'm close to the cave where I spent my first night, as well as the spot where I dug out some of the Damp Soil. I'll need fuel to cook the Raw Duck and that stuff down there looks promising, almost like buried charcoal. This game's too realistic for me to eat it as is. And yes, the dark stuff still waits where I exposed it, and while I'm there, I find I can dig up some clods of it with my shovel.
Clump of Peat
Resistance: 2
Speed: -1
Fall Damage: -1
Gravity: 0
Refinable: 1
Fuel: 1
"Okay, Mike. Don't panic. You have food and gas. Wow, that didn't sound right," I mutter, leaving the small mine I've started. It's full of that Peat stuff, so full that it might run under the whole Northern Swamp. I've gathered a few dozen pieces of the stuff, and it seems each block of Peat drops four to five clods.
My arms quiver, probably thanks to that Weakness debuff I've got. And my Calories bar has dropped a bit more. Using tools seems to slowly make me hungry.
"Time to go back to base." The pentagon sun sinks towards the horizon and vanishes behind the giant cliff.
And now I get to mine stone which will probably require the Hammer.
I still can't break that green ore in the cliff, but the rest of the stone breaks into pentagon-shaped chunks of Common Stone. As the sun sets, I go inside and try to
make an oven by drawing a sort of box in my Crafting Tab with them. Then I try multiple other shapes in my grid. A U. A sideways U. An upside down U. Then two rows of three.
No go.
"What gives?"
My stomach rumbles and cramps. It seems like the logical next step to make a stone oven, unless I need some sort of glue to keep the stone together. So far, Salvosera has mostly been good and intuitive if you use your brain, but I've spotted some inconsistencies. Well, it is a beta test.
But frustration builds as I try a few more patterns and get nothing except for some Common Stone Slabs and a Common Stone Walkway. Then I make some Slabs and try those in the shape of a box. Still nothing.
"Great. I'm stuck." And I'm still shaking, feeling as if I've just recovered from the flu.
And just as I utter those words, I feel the pull of the logout sequence.
"No," I yell, wanting to solve this, and now.
I fall through the dark as I utter a few choice words, and then I find myself back in the glass box with the blue light shining down on me. Stunned, I whirl on the roller balls and face Candi, now dressed in her own Salvos suit minus the helmet. She's opening the door to my Simulator.
And in that suit, she's hot. It's an exercise of pure will not to stare.
"Mike," she says. "Having trouble?" She keeps her voice low as if she doesn't want anyone else to hear even though I think Don is walking along through his own Simulator, beside mine, and lost in his own world.
I hate to admit it. "Maybe. Some things in this game I've figured out, and others not so much."
"Yes. That's why it's a beta," Candi says. Then she leans in and whispers with the most serious look in her green eyes. "They're watching you, Mike. We might have made a mistake, and they're looking for the first chance to get rid of you."
And with that, she closes my door, forces a smile, and walks away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Of course I'm not going to stand there while she walks away, carrying the answers I need. Watching me? A mistake? What mistake? I signed the contract and read all the terms, fair and square. And Candi told me that Salvos needs an inventor.
