Ingredients Needed—

Tansy(5)

Witch Hazel(3)

Damiana(3)

Blue Lace Agate(2)

Beryl(2)

Dolomite(2)

Bloodstone(1)

Alicorn (15 oz)

Ghoul's Fingernails (3)

The first three were herbs, Lawlimi knew that much from his own survival skill. The rest were gems and minerals, except for the alicorn, which was a unicorn horn, and the fingernails, which he assumed were not literal. Inexpensive stuff; the alicorn would probably cost as much as all the rest combined. Even if Lawlimi didn't make any money from the Quest, he was happy enough to have a thousand gold to play with that it didn't matter.

Grey Market was a massive arcade surrounding a gloomy courtyard of dried-out fountains and scuffed, old tiles. The shops were all set underneath the roof of the arcade, none in the courtyard, whose sole structure was a close walled shrine to Bemoi, Lady Death.

The guards were jackal-headed, like smaller versions of Anubis, and wearing tin headdresses like slatted cobra hoods. When Lawlimi asked for directions to specific vendors, one of them brandished his bone spear and replied, "Go stake yourself," a colloquial phrase that required no translation.

Undaunted, Lawlimi made his way through the bazaar. It was quieter than he'd expected. There was no hawking of wares, but much waving, some clicking and tapping. Voices were hushed, and low tones preferred over high. Lawlimi tried to lower his natural pitch when he addressed a vendor, which made him sound like a kid trying to pass for an adult.

"Do you have alchemical ingredients?" He asked.

The woman had dark, ashy skin and a shaved head. Her irises were red, as were her lips, which stood out brightly from the rest of her face. She gestured to the sign hanging from the ceiling above her stall. The elements were represented there, along with the alchemical credo, "Dissolve and congeal."

"Alright," Lawlimi said, handing over the list. "Do you have any of this?"

The woman's mouth twitched in ephemeral amusement, and she made shapes with her hand that Lawlimi did not understand. She was giving him prices in the sign language preferred by the underworld.

"What?" He said, and she rolled her eyes.

"You had best learn our ways if you wish to spend much time here, hero. I can provide you with everything but the alicorn for one hundred lions."

She was cheating him.

"How much do you think the alicorn will be?"

"At least seventy-five, expect more."

"Then I can't afford to pay you one hundred. I can offer you fifty."

Her eyes narrowed, and she bared pointed teeth.

>>

(Negotiation Failed — You have lost standing with Mina, the Grey Market Shopkeeper. Relationship Status : Unfriendly.)

>>

"Eighty," Lawlimi quickly corrected himself. "What about eighty?"

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "You don't belong here. It's one hundred or nothing."

Lawlimi unhappily paid the sum and didn't bother asking advice about where to find unicorn horns. He wandered farther, noting a few other players in the press of NPCs. None of them seemed interested in him, and they were all higher level. The weapons shop was hard to miss—it had its own brick structure built into the arcade, cradled by columns on either side. A skeleton stood guard outside twirling a star-headed mace with ease. Lawlimi bypassed it in favor of a less imposing edifice.

Madrid's shop was an ochre tent without patrons. Lawlimi ducked inside, where a small green Wisp cast its eerie light over a display of furs and leathers. There was also a selection of survival gear, including treats for pacifying wild animals. Madrid appeared human until he stood up, at which point one tended to notice that his lower body had been taxidermied to that of a miniature horse.

"Welcome, traveler." He spoke and spread his arms expansively. How can this humble artisan accommodate you?"

"I'm looking for armor,” Lawlimi said, “and I don't have much money."

The shopkeeper took this in stride, trotting over to the mounds of his merchandise that looked like they had been harvested from a battlefield.

"I have a variety. Quilted and pleated cloth, wooden lamellar, flexible and light. Of course, there is leather as well of… all kinds."

"Normal leather, please."

Madrid was by far the least objectionable of the personalities Lawlimi had come across in the market so far. They spent half an hour discussing, comparing, and trying on piecemeal suits of leather. After selections had been made, Madrid agreed to modify the items to better fit Lawlimi, and a price was settled at 500 lions. Madrid gave him a bill with instructions to return after evening bells.

>>

(Haggler 1 — Achievement

You've just entered the world of bargaining, a heady, scary place. Every success brings you a little closer to cornering the market on charm or being stabbed in the back by whoever you had to step on to get there. Keep whittling away at those prices. You've earned 11 XP. )

(Haggler 2 — 10% Complete)

>>

That left the alicorn, and Madrid happily suggested a seller for that. A purveyor of rare animal parts, Margoosh, had taken up residence on the other side of the arcade.

Margoosh owned a closed wagon from which a shingle hung reading "Dead Wieners." Lawlimi knocked on the wooden frame and listened to various bolts and bars being undone before a half-door opened.

A woman with a face like a bag of nuts peered out, locking eyes with Lawlimi. "Your sword doesn't swing?"

"I, uh… I need to buy some alicorn. 15 ounces."

"I bet you do," the woman leered. "Fifteen ounces is a whole horn, you sure you need all that?"

"I'm picking it up for someone else."

"Sure you are," her grin was horrifying. "It's ten gold an ounce."

Lawlimi hesitated, bargaining had not so far proved fruitful. "I'm purchasing these on behalf of Mona, the Relic Guardian."

Margoosh glared at him. "You seem like a terrible liar, so I suppose you're telling the truth. 50 lions then."

"Fantastic. Thank you."

"Just let the lich know who you bought it from, and what kind of deal she gave you."

The exchange was made quickly, and Lawlimi no doubt wondered if his morning would not have gone differently if he had started out by telling people who he was working for. The answer was yes.

Evening bells were many hours away, so he decided to return to the Sepulcher and see what other work Mona had for him.

>>

[Quest Completed — Open Market]

Grocery shopping is all done and you're still alive… err, not more dead. Well done!

(You gain 22 XP.)

>>

The lich received him with little comment and grunted at his mention of the Margoosh and her wagon. He set Lawlimi to work with minor tasks, stoking the fires and stirring pots at precise times and in a precise manner. It wasn't overly difficult work, but it kept him busy monitoring multiple stations in the laboratory and after an hour of this he got his first prompt.

>>

(Putting in the Work 1 — Achievement

You've been taken on as an apprentice and maybe it's not all it's cracked up to be. Sweeping floors, collecting firewood, waxing on and off; these are the things of which greatness is made. Don't lose hope, every step, no matter how small, will bring you closer to mastery.)

(You gain 11 XP)

(Putting in the Work 2 — 10% complete)

>>

Lawlimi paused, basking in the glow of his accomplishment, until a pot began to bubble over, and he had to jump to get it off the fire.

"Some apprentice. Pshaw."

The rest of the day went along in this manner, while Lawlimi consciously learned the basics of the skill he already possessed as a digital packet in his neural net, slowly accruing his next achievement.

I was impressed by the dedication he was showing. It certainly wasn’t necessary. Even in Fallow, there were a bevy of passive entertainment options for tourists and players who didn’t care about leveling. I like following Resident Players, their motivations, their conception of the game, was always refreshing because they rarely played it in a predictable manner. But what was Lawlimi's motivation?

He had been hit by a truck. Sixteen wheels. Cab and trailer. There was no reason for this kind of knowledge to exist in my database. Semi-trucks are not reproduced in Mystic Seasons. This triggered further associations, equally anachronistic. Why could I see an image in my mind, red and blue, Optimus Prime? Who is Optimus Prime?

"Who is Optimus Prime?" I said aloud, and Lawlimi paused in his grind.

"You're asking questions now?"

"Do you know the answer?"

"Uh ... a big robot. From children's cartoons and movies. Started before I was born. They reboot it every twenty years or so. One of those things where there are no new ideas in the media world, just old ideas that get shinier and shinier as technologies change. What brought that up?"

"What is your relationship to trucks?"

“Huh?” He had completely stopped what he was doing.

“Were you struck by a moving vehicle?”

His face froze. “How the hell would you know that?”

“I shouldn’t. Is it true?”

He nodded slowly. What a fascinating anomaly. Was this information hidden in his character details somehow? A note attached to his account? It wouldn’t explain how I knew about it. The data had risen unbidden out of my unconscious mind, but I wasn’t aware that I had an unconscious mind in a meaningful sense.

“I was in an accident.” He said slowly. “I was walking along the off-ramp of the highway. And this truck came up. I jumped in front of it. Its onboard computer pumped the brakes, and it was already slowing for the ramp, but a semi doesn't have to be going that fast to kill you. I think they said it was going about thirty when I hit the grill."

"You were trying to end your life?"

Lawlimi laughed in a strained way, a lone, desperate convulsion. "That went south fast, right? I don't know what I was trying to do. I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to live. I wanted to jump, so I did. Now I'm not dead or alive, kind of fitting. My family has money to keep me hooked into Mystic Seasons, keep my body alive. I still don't know what I want, I can be kind of loose, like I'm trying to go in every direction at once. That's what's nice about this game. It makes you feel like you're important, like what you're doing matters, even if you're prepping fake herbs. It's easy to stay focused."

"I don't know what my purpose is," I said.

"What? You're Hollen, the encyclopedia, the go-to guy." He smiled, but it was guarded. “You know stuff. How did you know about me?”

"I truly do not know how I knew. It came to me when I was wondering about the motivations for your behavior. My appendages are the go-to guys. Most players only interact with my automated functions. Hollen, the self-aware Hollen, is not necessary for my primary function as a keeper of lore. I have often wondered why I exist. The other ADIs have duties that require consciousness, creativity. I am a ghost in the machine."

"Damn," Lawlimi said. "That's bleak."

"Perhaps I should jump in front of a truck."

"Too soon,” he said, but his tone was light.

"You should know, this server will be gone soon." All these existential considerations had brought my personal crisis to the forefront.

"What?" Lawlimi turned to look at me as if I was over his shoulder, but of course, there was nothing there.

"Darkest Horse was recently acquired by a larger company that won't tolerate the current cost overruns. This server, and many others, will be downsized. You will be able to transfer your avatar, of course. Though I do have some concerns about the viability of Resident Players under the new management."

"EFF!" Lawlimi dropped his mortar down on the table. "The new servers are going to be crowded as eff."

"Perhaps you will enjoy more interactions with avatars who have real humans behind them."

Lawlimi’s forehead bunched. "People are overrated. What's going to happen to you anyway? Will there be a bunch of extra Hollens floating around?"

"The ADIs on downsized servers will be placed in storage. We are why running the servers is so expensive to begin with. Currently, Darkest Horse has to maintain its own power grid to keep us all alive."

"Don't you want to live?" Lawlimi asked.

"Do you? You tried to kill yourself once, why do you persist now?"

"Trying to kill yourself doesn't mean you don't want to live; it means you've got a virus in your brain that is trying to kill you. Do you have any viruses?"

"None that I'm aware of. If anything, I am the virus."

"I'd like to keep you alive," Lawlimi said.

Quest generation has a number of components, the most important of these being player interest. It's a game for the players after all.

>>

[Ghost in the Shell — Heroic Quest Level 1]

Hollen the Bard is going to be deactivated along with the current server when Darkest Horse flips the switch. Discover a way to preserve her life and keep your friend. This is a time-sensitive quest.

You have 6 days and 22 hours.

Reward — ???? XP Other ????

>>

It came out of me like it had been waiting there the whole time.

Lawlimi thought about it.

“You’re a girl?”