Standing in line, waiting for the guards to let him out, reminded Jack of his school days when he had to stand in line every day to get lunch. Of course, back then, there was no risk of being called on by the lunch ladies to perform a party trick in front of the whole school to be served food.
As the line moved along, Jack’s mind still lingered on his stop at a nearby market on his way here. His main reason for visiting the market was to check the value the market assigned to his unique items. The market priced his ocarinas at one gold and his pot hive at two. It was disappointing, to say the least. Wasn’t he the only player worldwide who could make these items? He had expected at least 50 gold for each ocarina and four times as much for each pot hive.
Despite the underwhelming market offer, these ceramics were still the most valuable items Jack could make, and the raw materials required were dirt cheap. Theoretically, he could lock himself up in the pottery association and make 300 pots or 600 ocarinas. After converting the gold for the sales for credits and selling the bugkeeper set, he’d have enough to cover one month of the helmet rental plus the rent to his father.
However, something about this option felt wasteful to him. Firstly, staying in a workshop for hours on end, making hundreds of items, wouldn’t be exactly a breeze. Additionally, how many beekeepers were out there who were interested in carrying their hives on their backs? What about bards? Wasn’t that a rare profession? Chances were that whatever bards were out there, they had better instruments than his. There had to be a better way to approach this.
One option would be to apply for a license to sell at Embersgate’s flea market. Another one was to travel to the capital and participate in the auction there, even though the entry fee was 100 gold. Or, perhaps, it was as simple as listing a few ocarinas and pot hives on the auction website and seeing how much they sold for in credits.
The line before the gate moved steadily as Jack considered the best course of action. "Excuse me, sir," a player clad in metal plates behind him in line said, interrupting his money-making plans. "I couldn't help but notice your peculiar setup."
Jack didn't know what level this player was at, but one thing was sure—he was much higher than him. "Uh… thanks?”
The player tried to keep the conversation going. “The moss suit and cape, I recognize, but what's up with that pot? Does it have bees in it?"
"Yes," Jack answered.
"Cool. So it's a portable hive.”
“That’s correct,” Jack said, fidgeting uncomfortably.
"Really? And you can carry it around everywhere?"
"I can, yes. There’s a price to pay, though. It comes with a slight speed debuff," Jack explained, hoping to get this conversation over with and get back to figuring out how to make money.
“Where did you get it?" the man asked directly.
Had this been a reward for a super secret quest, Jack would seal his lips about now. However, he was an artisan with pride in his work. He decided he had nothing to hide here. "I made it," Jack declared with a puffed-up chest.
The player nodded approvingly as he inspected the pot from top to bottom. "Good craftsmanship. Tell you what, I have a friend who's a beekeeper. I'm sure she'd be interested in getting one of these. Do you accept orders?"
Jack's mind raced furiously. This was the first time something like this has happened. Sure, others had approached him when he was cooking survival stew, but this was different. He had made something unique and valuable enough to make this veteran come out and ask about it for a friend of all things.
Jack scratched his head, trying to hide how happy he was. "I accept orders, although my waiting list is getting pretty long."
"I'm sure my friend would be willing to make it worth your while. Can I get your contact information and share it with her?
Jack shrugged. It wasn't like he had anything to lose. "Sure, why not? My tag is JackofDiamonds.”
“My friend’s name is BeeLoverBeeatrice. She’ll contact you.”
“Very well, then.”
The player stepped back into line, signaling Jack he wouldn’t bother him further, and waved his hands around, operating the game’s interface.
Jack returned to waiting in line, trying to contain his smile. Seeing such a high-level player going out of his way to ask about his items was just the boost of confidence he needed. He started thinking of how much he could charge Beatrice for a pot hive. 50 gold? 100 gold? Perhaps she’d be willing to pay in credits instead of gold, actually.
“Move along,” a guard said to him dismissively.
Thanks to the bonuses to his stealth from his moss suit and the way he hid the ocarina in his inventory, none of the guards stopped him. The one who caught the short straw was the warrior who'd asked him about his hive. Jack waited by the door, curious to see what the guards would have him do, but the warrior just yawned and handed over a gold coin.
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It was the first time Jack saw someone preferring to spend money over entertaining the guards. It made Jack excited. Spending one gold coin like that without flinching meant the warrior was wealthy. Maybe his beekeeper friend was too! Perhaps he should ask her for 500 credits off the bat!
Jack left through the gates without causing a commotion. He stood at the clearing, eyes darting between the city and the North. Should he just go back to the city and focus on crafting a few pot hives and putting them for sale at the auction? Or should he explore the potential of his bushcraft profession?
In the end, Jack followed his original plan for the day. He wasn’t even at the end of his first week in the game. He still had three weeks left to come up with the money, and knowing what additional items were available to a bushcrafter could be relevant. He was also going to see how much this Beatrice was willing to offer for the pot hive. That would give him a better idea of its market value among beekeepers.
Jack fixed his eyes on his destination: Red Lake. Higher-level players kept arriving at or leaving the clearing using the one road that led into the city. The road was spacious and clear of vegetation, promising an easy, comfortable trip, free of mosquitos, malaria, and other jungle hassles. The way the arrivals laughed, seemingly unscathed, only made the path seem more alluring. If Jack were to take it, he could arrive at the lake in 30 minutes.
However, he knew that with the seeming ease of travel came danger. Following Amari’s advice, Jack avoided the road. It might seem like a more straightforward path, but Amari had warned him that large predators often camped by the road. If he were to travel on it, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t make it to the lake.
The pot hive on his back was practically begging for attention from any nearby dinosaurs. If he were a dinosaur and saw a human covered in moss and honey, he wouldn’t hesitate to eat him. It would be like finding a juicy piece of meat garnished with its side salad drizzled with honey. Jack shuddered at the thought of an Allosaurus eyeing him as the day’s special.
Jack sighed, thinking of what kind of sick programming team would think of making such a cruel trap, and trudged into the jungle with his bush suit and green pot setup. So far, the moss suit had been enough to conceal him from most creatures. With his current setup, he felt confident he could evade the notice of a lone compy, for example. The only unknown was how the pot hive would affect his stealth. He didn’t even know if dinosaurs were like bears and were drawn to a hive or if they couldn’t care less about honey.
A few steps into the bush, the buzz behind him grew louder. The bees, detecting the jungle’s rich flowers, had begun to leave the pot hive, searching for nectar. Jack kept walking, letting the bees do their thing.
The jungle around him was alive with sounds—the nearby buzz of bees, the distant calls of strange creatures, metal clashing as players hunted beasts, the rustle of leaves as small animals scurried about, and the occasional snap of a twig beneath his feet.
This part of the journey was easy. There were many players hunting dinosaurs here, and all that Jack had to do was to stay out of everyone’s way as he headed north toward the lake. After a few minutes, bees with legs heavy with pollen began returning to the colony, each return earning Jack some experience.
A bee returns with pollen.
+10 beekeeping XP.
A bee returns with pollen.
+10 beekeeping XP.
All Jack had to do was keep walking, and his beekeeping profession would progress by itself. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Had he not been trying to maintain discretion, he would have grabbed his ocarina and played his new song to help the bees grow faster. Having a giant pot smelling of honey was already risky enough. He dared not call more attention to him by playing music.
He suddenly heard snorting and leaves rustling behind him. From experience, he recognized the sounds as a pack of porkies. This pack however, wasn’t fighting any player. If they spotted him, they would probably attack. The porkies passed a few meters away from him but ignored him. Jack sighed in relief. His moss suit had provided enough stealth to avoid their notice, and neither the pot nor the bees had attracted their attention.
The vegetation thickened as he moved farther from the city. The air grew humid, clinging to his skin and making breathing harder. His heart pounded in his chest every time he heard something significant moving in the distance, but so far, luck was on his side. Suddenly, there was a roar. It cut through the hustle and bustle of the jungle and was followed by silence as if the jungle itself had held its breath. Jack gulped. He knew this sound. It was an allosaurus. After a while, the jungle recovered its liveliness and returned to the usual cacophony of sounds.
“Hopefully, it is far from here,” Jack said quietly. As he kept walking, he almost fell into a hole in the ground. Looking down, he found tracks in the soft earth—large, clawed footprints leading into the direction he needed to go. He had zero experience as a tracker. For all he knew, these could have been done hours ago or seconds ago. Judging from its shape, this footprint could very well belong to an allosaurus.
He swallowed hard, debating whether to continue. The walls were far from view, and he was closer to Red Lake than to the city. Gathering his courage, Jack decided to press on. He moved quickly but cautiously, keeping a close watch on his surroundings. Jack had barely walked a hundred meters when the jungle went eerily quiet again.
The air felt heavy, and a chill ran down his spine. He froze, listening intently. Then, through the dense foliage, he saw it—a massive, red-scaled Allosaurus moving slowly through the trees, its head low as it sniffed the air. The beast's scales shimmered in the filtered sunlight, and its eyes gleamed with a predatory intelligence.
Jack dropped to a crouch, trying to make himself as small as possible. Beads of sweat formed on his head. The allosaurus was sniffing the air. Was it smelling him? He felt the direction of the wind on his wet forehead and found that it was blowing from the allosaurus toward him. He was downwind. He was safe—probably.
The Allosaurus stopped, raising its head as if it had sensed something. Jack’s heart pounded as the beast scanned the area, its massive jaws opening slightly as it released a low, rumbling growl. After an eternity, the Allosaurus took off in the opposite direction. A few moments later, there were screams. There had been another group of players nearby.
Jack took off running at full speed, away from the sounds of battle. His entire body trembled from the close encounter. He didn’t know if it had been thanks to his moss suit, being downwind, or sheer luck, but he had survived the encounter.
Jack kept running, constantly looking over his shoulder, afraid that the allosaurus was after him. Finally, the vegetation opened up, and he stood on the edge of a vast, serene lake. He’d made it. He had arrived at Red Lake.