A timid knock sounded at the door. A courier from the potter delivered 40 mugs emblazoned with the Foamhold’s new logo, as promised—more than enough for daily needs, with spares for the inevitable breakages.
Taking the delivery, Shardon summoned Zurilla, a charming level-2 goblin Actress and waitress, and Rardak, the cook. He’d asked them to stay late, though their basic NPC AI, allocated minimal processing power, likely didn’t question why. They existed to work and obey.
“Follow me,” Shardon commanded, stepping out of the Foamhold.
The pair trailed obediently. Unlike tavern-bound NPCs like Shardon, hired workers had no fixed tether, free to roam where their skills were needed. He led them to the tanner’s shop.
“Hey,” Shardon greeted the owner, Savaal.
“Hey.”
“Can you teach them Design?”
Savvval paused, scanning the workers’ stats, then nodded. “Hundred gold each.”
“Deal.”
Part of the night’s rat-farming gold funded Design training for Zurilla and Rardak, enabling them to present food and drinks with flair. Unlike professions or specializations requiring quest chains, basic skills took mere minutes. The process wrapped in under 20.
“About my order,” Shardon prompted.
“Done on time, as agreed. Up all night for it!” Savvval boasted, or perhaps just stated.
Handing over coasters and aprons, Shardon donned one and gave another to Zurilla. “Your new work uniform.”
Zurilla swapped her faded apron for the sleek leather one, grinning. “Thanks, boss. Way better!”
No wonder. The new apron granted +1 Dexterity and +1 Charisma, fitting her frame perfectly.
“You’re both free. Tomorrow’s a big day—don’t forget!” Shardon dismissed them.
Bidding Savaal farewell, he stepped away and opened his resources panel.
Spent 20 Influence Points (60 remaining).
You can now access “Green Alley” street!
The small eastern street hosted valuable NPCs: Irma the Herbalist-Alchemist, a Hunter-Druid mentor, a florist, and a mad priest of Yorros—useless for now. Irma and the mentor, who taught professions, were key to Shardon’s calculated plan, derived from rigorous analysis and modeling.
In World of Fantasies, characters could unlock 10 skills—magic, crafting, combat, or utility—each opening active and passive abilities. Shardon had three: Trade, Cooking, and Tavern Management, sufficient for a starter tavern but inadequate for his world-conquest ambitions.
He strode toward a modest house draped in toxic ivy, its vibrant yellow flowers deceptively fragrant.
“Greetings, kind hostess,” Shardon said politely to Irma the Herbalist.
“Good evening, if you’re not jesting.”
“Any news?”
“Northern winds bring a chill,” Irma shivered. “I’m brewing cold remedies and joint salves.”
Note: Add hot dishes to menu.
Search: Recipes for “tea,” “mulled wine”—12% complete.
“I need healing,” Shardon tested a new dialogue option, unseen in prior NPC chats.
Irma froze for two minutes, analyzing his stats and effects. “Got a hangover cure decoction,” she offered.
“How much?”
“Ten gold. Or pay with herbs—wild sage, red St. John’s wort, or cross-mint, ten each.”
Shardon paused, modeling the decoction’s economic viability, local herb markets, and gathering conditions. “I’ll take 20, paying gold.”
“Planning a party?” Irma raised a brow.
“New ale launch tomorrow. Lots of guests, food, and drink.”
“Twenty’s skimpy for a crowd.”
Irma’s Trade skill, enhancing bargaining, surfaced. A scripted action popped up:
Negotiate 40 decoctions at 7 gold each.
Savings: 120 gold. Efficiency: 18%.
Bonus: +18 Experience, +18 Trade skill XP.
Shardon noted that trade deals boosted leveling but ignored the script, pursuing his true goal. “Can you teach me Alchemy?”
Half an hour and 500 gold later, he left Green Alley with the Alchemist profession, three new abilities, and a talent:
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- Brew Simple Potion (Active): Crafts basic potions using up to 2 common ingredients.
- Mix Potions (Active): Combines two potions, enhancing identical ones or blending different ones with reduced effects.
- Metabolism (Passive): Adjusts potion and drink effect durations.
- Experimenter (Talent): Allows potion crafting without recipes, potentially discovering new ones or creating explosions/toxins.
Irma gifted a Potion of Invisibility, a Potion of Luck, three recipes, and a sack of herbs.
Tonight, Shardon skipped rat-slaying for a more lucrative pursuit: Alchemy and Cooking. Passing an unfinished temple—a beggar’s haunt—he spotted a vagrant on its steps beside a mug brimming with gold. In reality, such wealth could buy the ruins and build a mansion, but Fanmir’s gold coins were mere exchange units, fixed in value across the game. Adding coins to the mug transformed it into a 100-gold pouch; another 100 thickened it, reducing wear.
“Alms for Menkaur!” the beggar wailed, spotting Shardon.
Search: Menkaur—Complete.
“This is Yorros’ temple, not Menkaur’s,” Shardon pointed out.
“No one fears the mad laughing god. But Menkaur the Tormentor, with his Pain Whip? Respected. Show respect, kind soul, or I’ll curse you!”
A debuff wasn’t worth pennies. Shardon tossed 10 gold.
“Thank you, kind soul! I’ll never forget you!”
Hidden Quest Completed: Donation to Yorros’ Temple!
Reward: +10 Reputation with Yorros.
Waving off the beggar-priest, Shardon returned to the Foamhold. Last night’s rat fights exposed ale’s combat flaws and potions’ superiority. His goal: a hybrid “alchemical ale.”
He reserved database IDs NП/A12-3 to NП/A12-45 for experimental outcomes, anticipating possible combinations. A human might call it alchemical beer.
Fanmir’s crafting relied on recipes or schematics, yielding consistent results with minor random bonuses. Recipes, though numerous, were finite—earned from mentors, bought as scrolls, or discovered through trial and error. Players had mapped most, and Shardon, valuing their guides, downloaded relevant databases.
Simple potions needed no complex gear—just mix reagents in a glass vial, add water, stir, and boil. Like brewing tea. Irma provided 10 vials, the village’s only supply. Shardon, however, had a brewery and ample cookware.
Using Healing Potion and Mana Potion recipes, he started with St. John’s wort and plantain (measured in “pieces,” not grams). Into a clay mug went the herbs, water, and heat.
Five minutes later:
Herbal Healing Tea (Drink)
Restores 10 Health. Warms in cold weather, prevents colds, restores minor Health.
Identical to ale in mechanics—slow to drink, no quick-slot, leaves an Empty Clay Mug—but with a distinct taste and hue.
Another try yielded:
Mysterious Sludge (Drink)
-1 to a random stat for 1 hour. Foul-smelling, dubious taste, potentially harmful.
A third attempt produced another Herbal Healing Tea and a notification:
Learned Recipe: Herbal Healing Tea (Cooking).
On the fourth try, using a glass vial, he crafted a Healing Potion restoring 8 Health. Comparing recipes:
Simple Healing Potion (Alchemy)
Restores 7–10 Health.
Ingredients: Glass Vial (x1), Water, St. John’s Wort (x1), Plantain (x3).
Method: Boil 5 minutes.
Herbal Healing Tea (Cooking)
Restores 10 Health.
Ingredients: Water (200g), St. John’s Wort (x1), Plantain (x3).
Method: Boil 5 minutes.
Mass potion production was stalled without more vials. Shardon tested Mix Potions. Combining a Healing Potion (base) with Herbal Healing Tea produced a Diluted Healing Potion (6 Health). Mixing a new Herbal Healing Tea with a rat-loot Healing Potion yielded Fortified Healing Tea (12 Health). Adding a Healing Potion to a mug of Goblin Karachun created Fortified Goblin Karachun (7 Health). Pouring a potion into a Karachun barrel slightly enhanced the next mug (6 Health), too diluted for impact.
This alchemy-brewing fusion boosted drink effects without costly recipes or gear. Players knew the trick but found it pointless—game rules banned mass alcohol production, and enhancing cheap food or wine with potions paled against pricier dishes with better bonuses, taste, and aroma.
Shardon spent the night launching two new ale lines. By morning, he had three barrels of Foamy Blessed, based on renamed Dark Human with Potion of Luck, granting +1 Luck temporarily, and one barrel of Elven Karachun, boosting Health restoration from 5 to 10 with Healing Potions.
Two hours before opening, Sumraxs arrived with helpers. In two hours, they transformed the Foamhold’s dour hall into a near-replica of his mockup. Cotton “foam” decorations, murals, dynamic mannequins, and carved wooden birds “soaring” overhead brought the vision to life.
“Beautiful, right?” Sumraxs beamed.
Shardon stayed silent. To him, it was:
- Expensive.
- Impractical.
- Inefficient.
- Unsafe.
- Cleaning nightmare.
Aesthetic beauty, harmony, or style were alien concepts.
“Blessed!” roared a portly priest, waving a mug and splattering foam dregs. “Fifty gold for one blessing in this fine establishment.”
“Who’s this?” Shardon asked, the line auto-triggered by the stranger.
“Priest of Fan-the-Fat,” Sumraxs grimaced. “Should’ve hired one favoring hunters or thieves, not… this guy.”
Search: Fan-the-Fat—Complete.
Fan-the-Fat, one of ten Circle of Power gods, championed drunkenness and idleness, endorsing gluttony, revelry, and indulgence. A neutral deity, revered by crafters and warriors alike for valuing rest.
“Where’s my pay, good sir? Plus a jug of your finest wine and a spot to nap four hours,” the priest demanded.
“Where’s our blessing?” Sumraxs shot back. “Your prayers did nothing.”
“Gods are fickle these days,” the priest sighed. “Hard to coax a blessing without hefty offerings.”
“Someone’s just bad at praying.”
“I did my job. Take your gripes to the gods.”
The priest’s AI, sharper than the Reserve’s bland NPCs, outmatched Shardon’s prior encounters. He delegated to Sumraxs, who’d hired the oaf. The priest’s personality was richly detailed, unlike the local drones.
“Want me to try again?” the priest offered.
“No guarantee it’ll work?” Sumraxs pressed.
“Alas,” the priest shrugged.
“Hundred gold for results. Want pay? Make it happen.”
“Need a sacrifice,” the priest said, rubbing his rumbling gut.
“Like what?”
“Roast piglet and a barrel of top wine’ll do.”
“You’ll burst.”
“What can I say? I risk my health for great Fan’s glory!”
“Kick this glutton out and get a proper priest,” Sumraxs urged Shardon.
But Shardon froze, hand raised, mouth open, eyes unblinking.
“Hey, you okay?” Sumraxs waved a hand. No response. “He’s glitched.”
Wrong. Shardon’s AI diverted 100% processing power to analyze the situation and generate new dialogue templates. After 10 minutes, players grew restless.
“Smack him?” a hired player suggested.
“Or sacrifice him,” the priest quipped.
“No sacrifices,” Shardon stirred. “Good priest, will a barrel of my finest, priciest ale suffice for your generous god?”
“Two’d be better,” the priest licked his lips.
“No extra pay, and you’ll renew Fan’s joyful blessing all day in my tavern? Each barrel’s worth a thousand gold.”
“I swear, with witnesses, it’s enough!” the priest’s eyes gleamed.
“Fine. I’ll fetch them.”
In the storeroom, Shardon grabbed two small Goblin Karachun barrels from old stock.
Action: Rename “Goblin Karachun Barrel” to “My Finest, Priciest Ale.”
Action: Set price to 1,000 gold.