I was back in the Chief's Lodge, this time with Chimichangaroo.
We sat on comfortable square mats with a short table between us. Chimi prepared a couple of drinks and meals to make it feel more like an actual business meeting, although he told me not to expect much because he neglected to level his cooking Ocadule.
Since this was near the busy center of the village where all the important NPCs congregated, players eventually came to use this building as a meeting place. There was no tavern in Kurghal Village—the usual gathering spot for adventurers both in fantasy stories and RPGs—so this was the next best thing.
We were on the highest tier of the building, looking below at Chief Nogras lounging on his cushions as if we were in an ancient theater watching a play. Watching all the other Mardukryon NPCs doing their pre-programmed routines was also entertaining.
There were a few other players here as well. They gave Chimi an acknowledging nod when we entered and then went back to crafting, cooking, or simply talking with each other.
"Take your time to read the Contract," Chimi said as he swirled his cup of fruity orange liquid.
[Plemy Fruit Juice: +15 Spirit, +15 Vigor, and +1,500 Health for 30 Minutes]
As I had done when we first met, I copied his actions to subliminally establish a more personal connection. I took a sip of the drink as I perused the Contract floating in front of me. "This is quite good," I truthfully said, raising my cup to him as thanks.
It was my first drink in Mother Core Online, and I was surprised I liked it. Was it because it was two-star compared to the one-star food I had at Amberkeld? The closest taste I could compare it with would probably be apples. There was sweetness, not overpowering, and a hint of tartness.
What if I tried eating a Mirdabon? What did they taste like? Would I become strong like Buvalu?
Like the drink, this was also the first time I encountered an in-game Contract. After meeting the Expeditionary Legion member at Amberkeld Town, my curiosity got the better of me, and I looked it up. MCO had a system where players could craft their agreements, and the game would enforce them.
The extent of 'contracts'—if it could even be called that—back in Nornyr Online and other RPGs I had played was simply two people chatting with each other. Once there was an agreement as to the price of an item, the two players would trade, and that was it.
In comparison, MCO Contracts could encompass hiring other players as mercenaries, sponsoring expeditions and claiming all the discoveries, even agreements for products not yet crafted and installment payments. No wonder a business-oriented guild like the Legion had so much power.
Although MCO Contracts could get quite complicated, the one I had in front of me was straightforward: I was going to provide Chimi with two thousand pieces each of the three Mirdabon loots—[Patch of Fur], [Small Fang], [Black Spike]. In turn, he would pay me six million Artas—that was a thousand Artas for one material. A simple trade to avoid in-game taxes.
The math checked out, didn't it?
"Six million divided one thousand," I muttered while hiding my hand under the table. I drew numbers in the air as I calculated.
It was correct; I knew that. But it was one of those times I had to count it again and again because my brain wouldn't let me have peace, like rechecking if I had locked the door before leaving. Maybe I should use a calculator?
"Is everything alright?" Chimi asked.
"All good," I hastily said as I pressed 'Accept'.
Another screen appeared with two empty spaces—one for me, the other for Chimi.
He immediately deposited the required amount of Artas and locked it in. This served as sort of an escrow account, although this feature didn't matter much to us because our Contract would be instantly executed. For my part, I also deposited all the materials. The system processed it and...
[ Contract with Chimichangaroo: Completed ]
[ Received: 6,000,000 Artas ]
"You're now six million Artas richer, Herald." Chimi held his hand over the table.
I accepted his offer of a handshake. "Thanks for the deal," I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though I was extremely pleased with all the zeroes in my inventory. "This much Artas will be a big help in building my Mardukryon character." I wanted to project the air that this was nothing new, that I had earned millions of Artas before playing other races.
And, perhaps, I shouldn't get too excited about this.
My new small pile of fortune was minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Eventually, I'd be able to farm this amount from Artas monster drops alone, even if slowly, because I was a tank. Actually, I could use my WeeCee to buy premium currency right now and purchase a few million Artas if I wanted to.
It was a typical human trait to prefer the fast and easy route whenever available. That was the cornerstone of whaling in games and real life.
Whenever my sister, Nelly, visited amusement parks, she'd buy fast-pass tickets so she wouldn't have to wait in long lines for rides. Something as minor as that could be considered whaling. And in MCO, my warblers could quite literally buy farming time.
However, this feeling of being 'free-to-play' was all I needed to dissuade me from doing so. The grind was more rewarding this way. Just selling my loot at a high price already gave me a sense of fulfillment. If I whaled, there was the temptation of buying all the strongest and most expensive items immediately—I'd follow the meta. That wasn't what Herald Stone was all about.
I make my own path.
Constraints of resources brought out the best ideas—again, this wasn't something restricted to gaming.
"Other than Mirdabons, what other monsters do you want me to farm for you?" I asked Chimichangaroo. “I’ll have to eventually move on from them, right?”
I deliberately phrased it that way to signal this wasn't a one-time thing, hoping to secure a steady income stream. I'd provide him with low-level materials as long as he paid well. And he'd be hesitant to lowball me because he was the one who offered way above the "open market" prices in our first Contract.
"If you can stick with Mirdabon until they give about one piece of each loot per pack, that'd be great. For me, that is. But for you, I'll understand if you want to farm stronger monsters with better drop rates at that point. Other than Mirdabon loot...hmmm. Let me check what else I could craft." His Akashic Configuration appeared in front of him.
"How about the Craborelings?" I said. "Do you need anything from them?"
"Those small crabs with hands living inside the Scholar's Lodge? They're a good next step, but I don't have any use for their loot. I suggest the Snowy Swinelings. They're also level eight, the same as those baby crabs, and drop a certain type of fur for weaving. You can also use their meat for your cooking."
He's saying he doesn't want to buy all the Swineling drops, unlike with the Mirdabons. I should be careful not to press my luck too much.
"Would their loot fetch a higher price than the Craborelings?" I asked, stroking my horn as I pretended to know what those monsters were. They must be in other areas beginner areas of the Golden Forest I hadn't been to because I delayed entering Kurghal Village.
"I'll also pay you a thousand Artas each for the Swineling fur," Chimi said, giving me a thumbs up. "If you sold them on the market, you'll get a lower price than for the Mirdabon fur."
"Thank you so much," I said. He's justifying why he's not buying all the loot. Even then, profit-wise, Chimichangaroo remained my best choice. "This is a huge help to me, especially because I'm playing solo. This is the best start with all the characters I have played so far." Technically, I wasn't lying.
"Contact me if you'll have another batch of Mirdabon loots to sell. I hope you can reach three thousand of each before you stop farming them."
Three days passed with every minute of my free time farming Mirdabons, and I regrettably stepped into level twelve. For each Mirdabon pack, the drop on average was one of each loot—sometimes two, sometimes none. It was time to graduate from Mirdabons and move on to the Snowy Swinelings.
Again, I dumped all my free Attribute points to Vigor, but I decided not to use my three free Lesser Skill points.
Bullying level seven monsters didn't need upgrading [Rusting Ground], so it stays at level four. I also hadn't thought of a solution to my Energy regeneration issue yet.
Level seven [Greater Pyro Shell] provided me with a whopping four-hundred and fifty armor on top of the shell, certainly even more if I would level it up.
Lvl. 7 Greater Pyro Shell: Glorious blessings of the ancestors coat you with a formidable barrier of protective flames that boosts your defenses and absorbs (71% of incoming damage) up to the amount of Ancestral Shroud/Energy spent to summon it added by (28% of Armor). When the barrier expires or is depleted, the damage it has absorbed is dealt to nearby enemies.
Grants: +275 Armor, +9% Armor
Cost: 26% of Max Ancestral Shroud for Mardukryon; 20% of Max Energy for other Races
Duration: 22 Seconds
Cooldown: 6 Seconds
But I already had problems popping it when I farmed Hermit Crabores. I didn't want to increase my tankiness for now while I was in my ‘getting rich’ phase.
There wasn't much progress with my Mardukryon Cidule and [Ancestral Constitution]. If only I hadn't taken the [Molten Corium] on impulse, I would've not wasted Gli this early.
Lvl. 1 Molten Corium: Ancestral Flames thread through the skin of Aritu practitioners, granting them (+20% Fire Resistance) and (+5% Fire Resistance Cap). Being of such untold purity, the Ancestral Flames also warp (10% of all incoming non-Fire damage) and convert them to the Fire Element.
Such a useless skill and Gli sink. But something worth celebrating was [Healing Touch] leveling up.
Lvl. 2 Healing Touch: Use a touch of your revitalizing Ancestral Flames to heal yourself or an ally for (200 + (Vigor x 1.5) + 4% Ancestral Shroud) Health Points, and grant the target a buff that heals by the same value over 10 seconds. (Heal buff does not stack for a target.)
Generate for target: 1 Rejuvenation Charge
Cost: 25 Ancestral Shroud
Cooldown: 3 Seconds
I had just respawned in front of the Chief's Lodge after killing the last batch of Mirdabons to reach three thousand pieces of [Patch of Fur]. I still lacked some fangs and spikes, but I didn't think Chimi would mind. He'd read my message about our next Contract once logged on. For now, I should continue farming.
"Well then," I said, placing my hands on my hips. "Time to see what are these Snowy Swinelings."
Instead of trotting to the south gate, I turned left and headed to the eastern gate of the village to a brand-new area.
I was back in the Chief's Lodge, this time with Chimichangaroo.
We sat on comfortable square mats with a short table between us. Chimi prepared a couple of drinks and meals to make it feel more like an actual business meeting, although he told me not to expect much because he neglected to level his cooking Ocadule.
Since this was near the busy center of the village where all the important NPCs congregated, players eventually came to use this building as a meeting place. There was no tavern in Kurghal Village—the usual gathering spot for adventurers both in fantasy stories and RPGs—so this was the next best thing.
We were on the highest tier of the building, looking below at Chief Nogras lounging on his cushions as if we were in an ancient theater watching a play. Watching all the other Mardukryon NPCs doing their pre-programmed routines was also entertaining.
There were a few other players here as well. They gave Chimi an acknowledging nod when we entered and then went back to crafting, cooking, or simply talking with each other.
"Take your time to read the Contract," Chimi said as he swirled his cup of fruity orange liquid.
[Plemy Fruit Juice: +15 Spirit, +15 Vigor, and +1,500 Health for 30 Minutes]
As I had done when we first met, I copied his actions to subliminally establish a more personal connection. I took a sip of the drink as I perused the Contract floating in front of me. "This is quite good," I truthfully said, raising my cup to him as thanks.
It was my first drink in Mother Core Online, and I was surprised I liked it. Was it because it was two-star compared to the one-star food I had at Amberkeld? The closest taste I could compare it with would probably be apples. There was sweetness, not overpowering, and a hint of tartness.
What if I tried eating a Mirdabon? What did they taste like? Would I become strong like Buvalu?
Like the drink, this was also the first time I encountered an in-game Contract. After meeting the Expeditionary Legion member at Amberkeld Town, my curiosity got the better of me, and I looked it up. MCO had a system where players could craft their agreements, and the game would enforce them.
The extent of 'contracts'—if it could even be called that—back in Nornyr Online and other RPGs I had played was simply two people chatting with each other. Once there was an agreement as to the price of an item, the two players would trade, and that was it.
In comparison, MCO Contracts could encompass hiring other players as mercenaries, sponsoring expeditions and claiming all the discoveries, even agreements for products not yet crafted and installment payments. No wonder a business-oriented guild like the Legion had so much power.
Although MCO Contracts could get quite complicated, the one I had in front of me was straightforward: I was going to provide Chimi with two thousand pieces each of the three Mirdabon loots—[Patch of Fur], [Small Fang], [Black Spike]. In turn, he would pay me six million Artas—that was a thousand Artas for one material. A simple trade to avoid in-game taxes.
The math checked out, didn't it?
"Six million divided one thousand," I muttered while hiding my hand under the table. I drew numbers in the air as I calculated.
It was correct; I knew that. But it was one of those times I had to count it again and again because my brain wouldn't let me have peace, like rechecking if I had locked the door before leaving. Maybe I should use a calculator?
"Is everything alright?" Chimi asked.
"All good," I hastily said as I pressed 'Accept'.
Another screen appeared with two empty spaces—one for me, the other for Chimi.
He immediately deposited the required amount of Artas and locked it in. This served as sort of an escrow account, although this feature didn't matter much to us because our Contract would be instantly executed. For my part, I also deposited all the materials. The system processed it and...
[ Contract with Chimichangaroo: Completed ]
[ Received: 6,000,000 Artas ]
"You're now six million Artas richer, Herald." Chimi held his hand over the table.
I accepted his offer of a handshake. "Thanks for the deal," I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though I was extremely pleased with all the zeroes in my inventory. "This much Artas will be a big help in building my Mardukryon character." I wanted to project the air that this was nothing new, that I had earned millions of Artas before playing other races.
And, perhaps, I shouldn't get too excited about this.
My new small pile of fortune was minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Eventually, I'd be able to farm this amount from Artas monster drops alone, even if slowly, because I was a tank. Actually, I could use my WeeCee to buy premium currency right now and purchase a few million Artas if I wanted to.
It was a typical human trait to prefer the fast and easy route whenever available. That was the cornerstone of whaling in games and real life.
Whenever my sister, Nelly, visited amusement parks, she'd buy fast-pass tickets so she wouldn't have to wait in long lines for rides. Something as minor as that could be considered whaling. And in MCO, my warblers could quite literally buy farming time.
However, this feeling of being 'free-to-play' was all I needed to dissuade me from doing so. The grind was more rewarding this way. Just selling my loot at a high price already gave me a sense of fulfillment. If I whaled, there was the temptation of buying all the strongest and most expensive items immediately—I'd follow the meta. That wasn't what Herald Stone was all about.
I make my own path.
Constraints of resources brought out the best ideas—again, this wasn't something restricted to gaming.
"Other than Mirdabons, what other monsters do you want me to farm for you?" I asked Chimichangaroo. “I’ll have to eventually move on from them, right?”
I deliberately phrased it that way to signal this wasn't a one-time thing, hoping to secure a steady income stream. I'd provide him with low-level materials as long as he paid well. And he'd be hesitant to lowball me because he was the one who offered way above the "open market" prices in our first Contract.
"If you can stick with Mirdabon until they give about one piece of each loot per pack, that'd be great. For me, that is. But for you, I'll understand if you want to farm stronger monsters with better drop rates at that point. Other than Mirdabon loot...hmmm. Let me check what else I could craft." His Akashic Configuration appeared in front of him.
"How about the Craborelings?" I said. "Do you need anything from them?"
"Those small crabs with hands living inside the Scholar's Lodge? They're a good next step, but I don't have any use for their loot. I suggest the Snowy Swinelings. They're also level eight, the same as those baby crabs, and drop a certain type of fur for weaving. You can also use their meat for your cooking."
He's saying he doesn't want to buy all the Swineling drops, unlike with the Mirdabons. I should be careful not to press my luck too much.
"Would their loot fetch a higher price than the Craborelings?" I asked, stroking my horn as I pretended to know what those monsters were. They must be in other areas beginner areas of the Golden Forest I hadn't been to because I delayed entering Kurghal Village.
"I'll also pay you a thousand Artas each for the Swineling fur," Chimi said, giving me a thumbs up. "If you sold them on the market, you'll get a lower price than for the Mirdabon fur."
"Thank you so much," I said. He's justifying why he's not buying all the loot. Even then, profit-wise, Chimichangaroo remained my best choice. "This is a huge help to me, especially because I'm playing solo. This is the best start with all the characters I have played so far." Technically, I wasn't lying.
"Contact me if you'll have another batch of Mirdabon loots to sell. I hope you can reach three thousand of each before you stop farming them."
Three days passed with every minute of my free time farming Mirdabons, and I regrettably stepped into level twelve. For each Mirdabon pack, the drop on average was one of each loot—sometimes two, sometimes none. It was time to graduate from Mirdabons and move on to the Snowy Swinelings.
Again, I dumped all my free Attribute points to Vigor, but I decided not to use my three free Lesser Skill points.
Bullying level seven monsters didn't need upgrading [Rusting Ground], so it stays at level four. I also hadn't thought of a solution to my Energy regeneration issue yet.
Level seven [Greater Pyro Shell] provided me with a whopping four-hundred and fifty armor on top of the shell, certainly even more if I would level it up.
Lvl. 7 Greater Pyro Shell: Glorious blessings of the ancestors coat you with a formidable barrier of protective flames that boosts your defenses and absorbs (71% of incoming damage) up to the amount of Ancestral Shroud/Energy spent to summon it added by (28% of Armor). When the barrier expires or is depleted, the damage it has absorbed is dealt to nearby enemies.
Grants: +275 Armor, +9% Armor
Cost: 26% of Max Ancestral Shroud for Mardukryon; 20% of Max Energy for other Races
Duration: 22 Seconds
Cooldown: 6 Seconds
But I already had problems popping it when I farmed Hermit Crabores. I didn't want to increase my tankiness for now while I was in my ‘getting rich’ phase.
There wasn't much progress with my Mardukryon Cidule and [Ancestral Constitution]. If only I hadn't taken the [Molten Corium] on impulse, I would've not wasted Gli this early.
Lvl. 1 Molten Corium: Ancestral Flames thread through the skin of Aritu practitioners, granting them (+20% Fire Resistance) and (+5% Fire Resistance Cap). Being of such untold purity, the Ancestral Flames also warp (10% of all incoming non-Fire damage) and convert them to the Fire Element.
Such a useless skill and Gli sink. But something worth celebrating was [Healing Touch] leveling up.
Lvl. 2 Healing Touch: Use a touch of your revitalizing Ancestral Flames to heal yourself or an ally for (200 + (Vigor x 1.5) + 4% Ancestral Shroud) Health Points, and grant the target a buff that heals by the same value over 10 seconds. (Heal buff does not stack for a target.)
Generate for target: 1 Rejuvenation Charge
Cost: 25 Ancestral Shroud
Cooldown: 3 Seconds
I had just respawned in front of the Chief's Lodge after killing the last batch of Mirdabons to reach three thousand pieces of [Patch of Fur]. I still lacked some fangs and spikes, but I didn't think Chimi would mind. He'd read my message about our next Contract once logged on. For now, I should continue farming.
"Well then," I said, placing my hands on my hips. "Time to see what are these Snowy Swinelings."
Instead of trotting to the south gate, I turned left and headed to the eastern gate of the village to a brand-new area.
