Jack wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers trembling slightly as he awaited the final stage of the firing process. The heat radiating from the kiln warped the air, the room heavy with the scent of baked clay and the sharp, mineral tang of glaze. His eyes lingered on the kiln’s glowing interior, watching the progress bars over the ocarinas inch forward.
Finally, the bars flashed red. With a satisfying hiss, he pulled open the kiln door, a blast of heat prickling his skin like a sudden slap. He squinted through the shimmering air, gloved hands gripping the shelf as he carefully slid it out. The ocarinas clinked softly, their surfaces still warm.
Under the workshop lights, the instruments gleamed—deep blacks, glossy reds, shimmering blues, and vibrant yellows.
You’ve finished crafting 20x [Earthenware Ocarinas].
+16,000XP in [Pottery]
Jack inspected them one by one, testing their weight, their finish. He held up a particularly striking piece—an iron-rich black-glazed ocarina. Its surface gleamed darkly, like polished obsidian. The cool, smooth texture felt satisfying in his hands. As he blew into the finger holes, a clean, sharp note pierced the air.
Earthenware Ocarina (Rare)
Crafting grade: B+
Description: An iron-rich black-glazed alto C clay ocarina, handcrafted for sharp, clear tones and a smooth finish.
Durability: 28
Artistry: 13
Crafting grade bonus: +12 durability; +4 artistry.
Iron glaze bonus: Dissonant songs are +10% more powerful.
"So the color of dissonance is black," Jack mused, his thumb tracing the ocarina’s dark curves. He jotted down the observation in his crafting log. He could already play happy, epic, and dissonant melodies, but there was more to discover—more colors, more songs.
Laying the ocarina back down, he felt a spark of excitement. Somewhere out there, he hoped, bards would be clamoring for these instruments, ready to pay top credits. Or perhaps a collector might surface—someone like that guy he’d met in college who collected guitars but never learned to play. Surely, New Earth had its own share of virtual instrument aficionados.
His eyes drifted back to the kiln, where another progress bar flashed red—the pot hive had finished firing. Rejuvenated, Jack pulled on his thick gloves and approached the kiln again. This time, he withdrew a heavy trolley carrying the navy blue pot hive. Its surface was adorned with intricate hand-carved patterns, their colors deepened by the fire’s heat.
With effort, Jack wheeled the trolley over to his workbench, the pot’s weight straining his arms. All that remained was securing the wooden sticks—the rafters and pillars for the honeycombs. He threaded them through the pot, carefully applying glue to ensure everything was firmly in place.
As he placed the last stick, a notification popped up:
You’ve crafted a [Stoneware Pot Hive].
+73,000XP in [Pottery]
Congratulations! You've crafted [Stoneware Pot Hive].
Crafting grade: C
Description: A heavy, large stoneware-lidded pot that can house a honey bee colony.
Durability: 71
Artistry: 5
Debuff: -30% movement speed
Unlike the ocarinas, the pot hives didn’t receive any bonuses based on their glaze, but that didn’t stop Jack from putting his personal touch on each one. This navy blue hive was just one of five he'd finished. He ran a hand along its smooth surface, feeling the raised swirls under his fingers.
Nearby, stood a deep red pot hive. Thin, rope-like marks criss crossed its surface—a fibrous pattern scorched into the clay during firing, when a rope tied around it had burned away, leaving behind a beautiful, organic texture. Each hive was different: one was a soft, earthy brown with delicate floral motifs carved along the rim; another was a muted yellow, its surface marbled with a splash of speckled brown. They were large and heavy, built to house thriving bee colonies.
Though functional, Jack went the extra mile to make them beautiful. He hoped their unique patterns and colors would catch a buyer’s eye, even if they were simple bee homes.
Ding!
Jack’s messaging window popped up.
“In Embersgate. Where are you?”
“Pottery Association,” Jack replied quickly.
“Can we meet somewhere near the gate?”
Recalling his earlier meeting spot with Horace, he instantly knew where to suggest.
“How about at the defender’s statue?”
“Sweet. See you there.”
Beeatrice was in town. Jack’s heart skipped a beat—it was time to deliver his very first order. His mind quickly shifted to logistics, relieved that his extra inventory slots remained available even when Snowy wasn’t summoned.
He opened his inventory screen, carefully stowing the freshly crafted ocarinas and pot hives. The bulky pots took up 2x2 slots each, and the ocarinas, though smaller, only stacked in piles of five. It didn’t take long before Snowy’s 25 additional slots were filled.
“Seriously, how did I ever live with such a small inventory?” Jack muttered to himself as he continued to pack the ceramics. Satisfied that everything was in place, he approached the counter where the guild’s NPC clerk was stationed.
“How much do I owe you?” Jack asked.
The NPC’s eyes flickered briefly as it calculated. “You worked for seven hours. Including tool rental and the consumables you purchased, your total comes to 1 gold, 3 silvers, and 43 coppers.”
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Jack handed over the payment, a small price considering the profit he knew he’d soon make from this haul. When the quest giver had picked pottery as his crafting minor, he remembered reading in a guide how affordable it was, with low material costs guaranteeing profits. Whoever wrote it was right.
Sadly, he didn't have the time to experiment with porcelain yet, but he was planning to return to the Pottery Association after putting all this stuff for sale.
As he stepped outside into the courtyard, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—had it been Felix who wrote that guide? Or maybe one of Felix’s buddies? He hadn’t seen Felix in the entire seven hours he’d spent at the Pottery Association. I’ll have to ask him about it later.
Summon!
In a puff of thick, swirling smoke, Snowy materialized before him. She stood still for a moment, her large eyes locking onto Jack. Her mouth opened slightly, as though she were about to say something. Jack tilted his head, a bit taken aback.
Can she talk? he wondered, stepping closer.
But just as he reached out, Snowy opened her mouth wide—only to let out an impossibly slow, drawn-out yawn.
“Seriously, Snowy?” Jack laughed, scratching behind her ears. “Here I was thinking you were going to talk to me, but nope, just stifling a yawn.”
Snowy blinked lazily, her enormous form sagging as Jack mounted her back. As they began moving, his thoughts drifted to his friends. He used to think of Amari, Horace, and Marie as Amari’s gang, but now, more and more, they felt like his gang too.
Apparently, Horace hadn’t been able to resist showing off his newly acquired horse. Even though he hadn’t waited for Jack, he had still sent a video, proudly flaunting his mount.
The others had been green with envy when they heard that he and Horace had managed to capture an allosaurus. Knowing Horace was about to tackle a quest that granted horse-specific items, they had all rushed to buy horses of their own and join him.
Jack opened his messaging window and shot them a quick message. Amari responded promptly, letting him know they’d be a while.
“Guess we’ll sit this one out, Snowy,” Jack said aloud, patting his mount's thick fur. “But that’s fine. Just the two of us—we’ve got more than enough to get things done.”
Snowy let out another contented, lazy noise as they approached the defender’s statue, the agreed-upon meeting point with Beeatrice.
“I’m here,” he messaged.
Beeatrice responded almost instantly: “Five minutes out.”
With time to spare, Jack hopped off Snowy and decided to explore the nearby market. The sign over the door reading Marketplace swayed slightly in the breeze, its hinges creaking. Inside, players sat engrossed in their system windows, hands moving through the air as they navigated the invisible interfaces.
Jack noted that this marketplace had a classier atmosphere than others he’d visited. Vibrant potted plants with blooming flowers lined the walls, and cozy armchairs were arranged near sleek, long stools. The decor might have been for show, but it added a sense of luxury. An NPC merchant stood behind the counter, negotiating a deal with another NPC, his posture stiff and professional.
Thinking about Amari and the others who were picking up gear for their horse-riders, Jack glanced out the window at his ground sloth. It was busy munching on the flowers growing around the statue.
I wonder if they make sloth-specific gear?
After a careful search, he found nothing tailored for sloths. However, he did find a saddle that seemed like it might fit.
Buffalo Leather Saddle (Common)
Description: A sturdy, well-crafted saddle made from durable buffalo leather. Designed to provide both rider and mount with added comfort during long journeys.
Effects: Passive. Increases riding speed by 10%.
Requirements: Level 10 mount.
Feeling a twinge of jealousy at the new gear the others might be getting, Jack decided to splurge. After all, his steed deserved the best. But as he equipped the saddle, a dreaded message popped up.
You didn’t craft [Buffalo Leather Saddle]. You can’t equip it.
Jack clicked his tongue in frustration. The game treated the saddle as equipment—despite it being for the mount, not him. Sighing, he listed it for sale and turned back to the reason he’d come here in the first place.
Jack hovered his fingers over the interface and navigated to the auction site. His eyes flicked to the items sitting in his inventory, waiting for their first owners. A sudden weight settled over him—the significance of what he was about to do hit home.
He was the first player to craft ocarinas and pot hives. These were the first of their kind to appear on the market, with the potential to solve his financial problems. Jack took a deep breath, steeling himself, and began listing the items.
He put all five pot hives up for sale on the open auction system, setting a buyout price of 100 credits each. Players could either purchase them outright or place a bid, with a minimum increment of 1 credit. The auction would run for a full week, giving bidders plenty of time to decide.
Next, he turned his attention to the ocarinas. The buyout price was lower—50 credits—but the auction was structured the same way. Players could bid or buy outright, with a minimum increment of 1 credit. He set the auction window for three days, programming the system to automatically replace each sold ocarina with another from his inventory. The setup was smooth, designed to maximize exposure and keep his stock moving.
Satisfied, Jack took a screenshot of the listings and sent it over to Horace. As he waited for a reply, he browsed the auction site for other instruments. There were bone harps, drum sets, and bassoons—all much pricier than his ocarinas. The second cheapest instrument was selling for 400 credits. He wondered if he should adjust his prices and sent Horace a quick message about his doubts.
He tapped his foot nervously. A couple of minutes later, his messaging window pinged, and a thumbs-up emoji appeared. “Well done, Jackie!” came Horace’s reply. “The other stuff’s made from more expensive crafting materials. Try this price first. If it’s too cheap, you can always raise it later.”
Jack smiled as he confirmed the listings. A small surge of pride swelled in his chest as he left the marketplace. The weight of his hard work hung in the air, now entrusted to the auction system. The thought of his items being out there, ready for players to buy and use, made him both excited and anxious.
As he stepped outside, a fresh wave of uncertainty hit him. How much will these items actually sell for? After so many dead-end jobs where his efforts went unrewarded, he couldn’t shake the creeping doubt. What if no one bid more than one credit? What if my work isn’t worth anything to other players?
His thoughts swirled as he crossed the courtyard. Then his gaze landed on Snowy, who was lazily munching on the flowers around the statue, completely unbothered by the world. Jack chuckled to himself, feeling some of the tension slip away. If only he could be as laid-back as Snowy.
He just had to believe that, among the millions of New Earth players, someone—other than Beeatrice—would be interested in his items.
*
SingleStone studied the wreckage of the carriage and sighed. "Oh, great," he muttered. Several of his hives had been smashed into splinters, and the bees were now scattered and confused, with no place to call home.
"There goes your experience, boss," Jasper remarked from the side.
"I don't need reminding, Jasper," SingleStone grumbled. When he first read about the beekeeping profession and how it was possible to attack with bees, he had imagined an almost unstoppable combo. And it worked, mostly. He could single-handedly hunt a T-Rex—as long as it didn’t strike back.
“There’s got to be a better way to do this,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. The only way to transport a live hive was by horse-drawn carriage, which was slow, hard to maneuver, and—worst of all—fragile. One tail whip from a high-level dinosaur, and it was game over.
"Truth be told, boss, if you want a weapon you can carry on a carriage, you might as well get a ballista," Jasper joked.
"Yeah, I thought I was onto something," SingleStone replied, disappointment weighing his words. He prided himself on being an inventor, always exploring new combos and writing guides for his guild. When he discovered that beekeepers could have their colonies fight for them, he thought he'd struck gold. But the combo’s weaknesses were proving impossible to ignore.
“Oh well, salvage what you can,” he said, waving SingleStone and the team towards the wreckage. "I’ll have to go back to the drawing board."
Ding!
Hmm? Something new?
SingleStone always kept an eye on the auction sites, searching for the next game-breaking combo. He knew every item related to beekeeping by heart and had set up an alert for anything new. Sure enough, something had just popped up.
It was a collection of large pot hives with special effects.
The moment he saw it, he knew he had to have one.
"Guys, I’m heading to the marketplace. Something’s come up. Bring whatever you can salvage from the wreckage, and I'll meet you there," SingleStone ordered, already setting off.
"Right away, boss," Jasper responded.
SingleStone didn’t care if he had to pay the buyout price. This might be the key to unlocking the combo he’d been working on for weeks.