Chapter 1: A New Cold World Alex Ragendde sat on the balcony of his favorite cafe down the street from the tower. The tower was a useless 40 meters tall. At the ground level, it had one large room and a double door that led to a staircase downwards. The ceiling of the one room was 40 meters up. Thus, someone had made a large empty room with a very high ceiling so that a door could lead down to the actual purpose of the tower. Gods were dumb. But at least the stained glass windows and gothic architecture made it look cool. 30 years ago, a split in reality occurred and everyone was taken from their home world and transported to this world. The only notable evidence of work was this large tower and the labyrinth that lay below. Everything else was natural. Thus, the Gods obviously made this tower and its useless room.
Despite leaving the old world together, not every human arrived at the same time. By the time my ten year old self had been taken to the New World, it had already existed for 20 years. I’d been told the labyrinth was very dangerous and thus I should not go in. From what else I gathered, all of the minerals and useful materials were stripped from the labyrinth as the first explorers went deeper. Eventually they ran into monsters from legend and were forced to either fight to continue, or stay above ground. The land above had eventually produced a small town and as more and more people were transported from the old world to the new world, the town subsequently became larger and more developed.
After 30 years people apparently still thought they would eventually go home because the town never really developed past a medieval level of basic building and functionality. I liked this aesthetic. It reminded me of cartoons I used to watch as a kid. I had often wished I could live in a mythic world with dragons and wizards so I could become a Knight above all others. Known around the world for his brave deeds and heroics. The real mythic world was much colder. Here I was on my daily routine alone and surrounded by a depressing atmosphere. Dark grey clouds covered the sky on almost a weekly basis. Given the rain made for some beautiful nature, but the humans were ugly. The new world led to many trying to cope through alcohol. Those who didn’t do this were usually not trying to cope at all. Some curled up on the streets all day in silence while others were frantically trying to “beat” the world to return home. I gave up on returning home a few months in. I gave up on beating the world and listening to what others had to say. I had my routine which I enjoyed, the loner life let me keep my sanity, and when I wanted to do something I did it. Naturally this came with limits. When going down the tower, it was mandated that you do it in a team, rather than form a team, I didn’t go down the tower. The tower was already looted anyway for the first few levels. Some ventured to the “mid levels” because the resources there replenished. This replenishment was the only evidence the Gods hadn’t completely abandoned us, some found comfort in that. Although because no one knows how deep the tower goes, it’s impossible to say that beating the tower is possible or that this will free us from this world.
It's not like life changed. I still eat, sleep, I can see the people walking down the street from the same eyes as before. A transportation added a ripple to a cycle that remained the same. If anything, for most people it should be a good thing. Not that I ever worked a nine to five, but now I’ll never have to. My freedom was secured. I no longer have to listen to adults on what I should do. The stress of being successful in life is boiled down to a simple task of survival. And if I fail, no one cares. Judgement plummeted. Karen next door isn’t going to judge my lawn furniture for ruining the neighborhood’s aesthetic. The waitress at the coffee shop isn’t going to give me a disgruntled look if I don’t tip a certain amount of change. As long as we can survive until someone “frees” us from this world, no one cares how others are perceived. This should be freedom, but all I see is depression. It's like I’m the only one trying to live. People are messed up.
When I first transported to this world I met a young girl who wanted to help those who looked as if they were suffering. Naturally, as a 10 year old boy, I couldn’t find my parents. Maybe they had been transported before me and died. Maybe they would come ten years from now. I have no idea. This girl helped me survive the first few years, she taught me how to live on my own. Maybe that's why I can see how everyone else is living wrong.
I’ve decided to accept the world without question. Its easiest when you have a goal. I’ll become the greatest craftsman this world has seen. Funny how this world works, the Gods must of liked human video games because you can create items just like it. Want to make a stew but don’t know how to cook? Throw the ingredients in a pot over a fire and focus your mind on it. You’ll have a pretty decent stew without any knowledge on what you’d have to do to prepare and make it. Blacksmithing is the strangest for sure. Throw some ore in a pot over heat and focus on it melting, the ore will melt. Poor it onto a flat surface and hit it with a hammer with an item in mind, it’ll take shape on its own. Generally these things follow a formula, all knives look identical unless you can focus on a specific aspect of the knife. But I learned a trick that’ll make me the greatest. If you focus on the process instead of the end result, you can create something new. I discovered this by accident. I had to make an iron plate for a hole in my wall that was a specific shape. I focused on hammering it in that specific shape and the world’s sequence never took over to complete the product. Each strike with the hammer was so fascinating, for once I felt control over the world.
I showed this to Lily, the girl who took care of me when I first arrived. She tried it with cooking, now when she makes dinner, I eat better than anyone else. I don’t really need her help to survive anymore. I am 20 years old afterall, but she is probably my only friend and it's nice to converse occasionally. Personally, I think she comes to talk hoping to learn more about the world. I mean, almost all the time we spend together is me explaining what I’ve done since I last saw her. As the world’s most unique blacksmith, I am always showing off what I’ve made… Most of what I’ve made are failed attempts at something I haven’t seen before, but the blueprints for my designs still look fascinating.
I call myself a blacksmith because I make a lot of things using blacksmith tools, but calling myself a blacksmith is probably rude to actual blacksmiths. I have a shop, my one room apartment, but I don’t really make things for others and I’ll only sell what I make if I am low on money. I reuse most of the things I make if I don’t need or don’t like them. Sometimes I’ll make the basics just to try out new techniques, but for the most part everything I make is made for the first time. Why would I need two long swords? Thus I don’t make two long swords. When I go for materials and resources in the wilderness, I use two short swords and sometimes I’ll make an attempt to upgrade those or my gear. I guess that makes blacksmithing a hobby rather than a profession.
The waitress came back around and gave me my coffee.
“Thanks”
She smiled a waitress smile and went back into the cafe. From the second story balcony you could see down the street to the tower, but you could also see the streets below. The town consisted of several roads that led out from the tower towards the different sections of the town. The Cafe was in a section designated towards food services, the next street was for residence, then official offices such as police, town officials, and special services. Usually this consisted of counseling and aid services for people who had just been transported and needed to know what the hell was going on. The other sections included non-food sales such as gear and housing tools. The other two sections had buildings that had been designed to be easily adapted for future use. For now it was just extra housing and a few restaurants. These streets also included some guild houses and organization’s buildings. If you went down any one road long enough you would eventually exit the town and enter a large forest that encased the town. I had begun mapping the surrounding areas based on the materials I found. Go down the gear street and exit the forest from that side and you’ll come to a rocky area that has basic iron ore and some random materials for blacksmithing. It wasn’t as dangerous as the tower, but there were some rock golems, small stubby creatures with very slow reflexes.
When I first wake up, I make some coffee and then head down that street to get anything I need for the day. After that, I’ll sell whatever I find that wasn’t used for my blacksmithing. This was usually enough for food and shelter as long as I went everyday. Today, I treated myself to some coffee at a cafe instead of home because of some gems I’d found and sold the day before.
As I left the cafe I left a small tip and headed toward the gear street. I took a small brown bag from my belt and took out two sheathed swords much bigger than the bag. This was just another new broken physics characteristic the gods had built into the world. Regardless of size, bags could hold a certain weight, and there was no way to tell what was inside the bag based on its appearance. I took the belts attached to the sheaths and strapped them to my torso so that I could grab the swords from my back by reaching over my shoulders. The sheaths were a basic black that blended in with my grey shirt and brown pants. Small smut stains speckled my clothes from when I was blacksmithing. Because of the sequence in the world I was probably the only one who actually got dirty while crafting. It wasn’t that my appearance looked different from everyone else, most had stains from a lack of concern for their appearance, but my stains were from grueling work. I continued to march down the street towards the forest when a young couple stopped me.
“Are you going towards the rocky outpost?” the man asked.
“I go every morning.” I replied.
“Mind if we come with you? We happen to be behind on our rent and need to get a little extra this month.” the man said behind an awkward smile.
“Sure, but I’m not responsible for you or your girlfriend.”
The woman who was clinging to the man’s arm showed a slight forced smile. She was dressed with an appearance that resembled a worn out tracksuit from the old world. Clearly they had just been transported and didn’t buy new clothes yet. Her red hair was slightly frayed. His hair was a mess, the black hair had bits of grey and his eyes looked as if he hadn’t slept in a few nights, his jeans and t-shirt looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in longer. Finding a routine to afford rent and food was probably the hardest part of beginning life in the new world. The aid helped you find an apartment and gave you the first week’s worth of food, but you were still expected to pay for rent and food after that first week.
The three walked through the forest towards the rocky outpost. The couple had their guards up and the man had a small shortsword drawn the whole time. The woman clung to his arm and they both walked at a slower pace than myself. I couldn’t help but chuckle at their appearance.
“There's no threats in the forest, you can be at ease a little more.”
“Sorry, we’ve only been outside the town a few times” the man smiled nervously.
“Have you atleast fought anything before?”
You could tell from his body language that the man was terrified of fighting, his sword shook just slightly as he walked. Despite this, he still looked intent on not letting anything happen to his girlfriend.
“We fought a rock golem with a group the other day...or I guess we watched a group fight a rock golem. I never really wanted to be a swordsman.” he chuckled slightly as he talked.
It took a group to kill a rock golem? Really? Rock golems were monsters, but they were still only two to three feet tall and had short stubby arms. Imagine a penguin made of rocks with fatter arms. It would take some serious mistakes to actually lose a fight with one.
“As long as you don’t venture too far outside the forest, you should be safe from all the difficult monsters. Even a beginner could kill a rock golem without any trouble.” Alex smiled as he talked, but because he never looked back at the couple he really was just smiling to himself.
“Are you hoping to find something other than rock golems?”
“Are there other monsters?” the man said.
“Not really, but I go for materials for blacksmithing as well as money for rent.”
“Would you give us money if we help get materials for you?”
“Well, I don’t make much more money from looting the golems than the amount I need for food and rent, but if you get materials I’ll make you some gear for free.”
The couple mistook his eagerness to blacksmith as Alex trying to be friendly and they got excited at the thought of someone helping them regularly.
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