Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 #1 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Scratching his head and staring at the older looking man in front of him, the Adventurer looked to be quite confused and unsure of himself. His lips were drawn in a line, and his eyes were focused down on a set of items. Ingredients, rather. They were ingredients that would be used for making a healing potion. Not too difficult or too complicated, but just enough to make the Player uneasy. He had gone beyond the walls before, that wasn’t an issue. It was the fact that he would have to find these things that was the problem. Running around the field finding boar was one thing. Finding plants and herbs? A green bush was a green bush was a green bush. They all looked the same to him. But for this quest he needed to find not just one bush and one material, but five. Five different pieces of materials he would have to fetch in order to fulfill the needs of this aging client. Quite the task for someone whose only run ins with plant life came in the form of hops and lettuce. The latter only because his wife was determined to shove some kind of green in his face. Salad was the solution, not a good one but it was a solution. He did like the pasta salads, though. He wouldn’t deny that. “Sorry, run it by me again.” The Adventurer asked. The older man sighed and shook his head. “Young man, you are one of the more difficult beginners I have helped.” Said the older man, with no retort from the Adventurer. The younger man in the shop nodded and took the opportunity to sigh himself. This was painful. “Could you maybe write it all down? I don’t exactly have a photographic memory.” The Adventurer tried to compromise and find a better way to handle his problem. At first, the old man seemed reluctant but he was patient. He had been this whole time, thankfully. After repeating themselves four times, most people would have given up. The old man held up a hand before leaving the counter to find a parchment and some ink. The Adventurer waited until he returned, a few moments later. While the Adventurer turned and looked around the room he was in, admiring all of the trinkets and books, the older man began to scratch at the paper. The list was short but several key words were noted. Leaf shapes, colors, expected textures, and possible locations were all noted down for the useless Adventurer. The old man let out another sigh when he finished and passed the younger fellow the paper. “Remember; one of each.” The old man said with a single finger raised. The Adventurer nodded his head, then left the small workshop for the outer fields. Word Count: 467 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #2 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Making his way through the city, walking slow and taking his time, he took in the sight of various faces passing him by. Even when he had reached the outer gate to the city and continued on, there were still people scattered about. In a digital world where death was just as prominent as in the real world, people lived on. It was just as one would expected when a bunch of gamers were all thrown into a single pit and told to survive. As long as they had their health potions, swords, and friends; gamers would go anywhere and fight anything. It was a mystery that this Adventurer was beginning to learn. He made his way up the road and into a small patch of trees. There weren’t even more than twenty, if he actually stopped to count, but just enough to cause some vegetation to sprout. In the shaded area, brush and small flowers bloomed all together. Tiny animals likely called this place home. He could already hears birds, so he knew they were here too somewhere. But he wasn’t here for them. While he could only assume that they would taste delicious if he hunted and cooked them, he was here for, dare he say it; vegetables. Yuck. The Adventurer made his way through the outer ring of brush and stepped carefully into the shaded section of the tree patch. He was met with a few low roots and a hazardous working environment should he decide to become a professional forest explorer. Following the instructions on the paper he had been given, he walked in and started to look around for something that looked remotely like his objective. Too bad he didn’t even know that. To be honest; he had no idea what he was looking for. “I’m more likely to find a clover in here.” He muttered. The man let out a sigh and cracked his neck. Might as well start digging. Figuratively speaking. He didn’t have a shovel. Word Count: 333 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #3 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Unwilling, but stuck doing, the Adventurer knelt down and started to pick through a bush that he believed to match the description on the paper. This was the one thing in life he ever thought he would do. Gardening wasn’t a hobby of his. Sure, he had watched his wife plant things and squirted her with the hose when they were young to be a jerk, but he hadn’t ever put something in the dirt or dug it out. He was more likely to run things over with the lawnmower than anything else. But look for a plant, specify it by its appearance, then properly pluck it from the ground? This was new. Everything about this was new, and it had his feathers already ruffled. A few days ago when he had decided to start this adventuring thing, he expected something more along the lines of killing more boars more frequently and getting more money and experience. But he did not count on the fact that there were normal people who needed normal things to make a living. Coming across the old man named Zackariah had happened by chance. Now, the fellow was sort of regretting his choice. That was in the past, however. For now he would do as he was asked to the best of his ability. The sifting through a bush was him doing just that. It was a tall bush with long leaves that spread out heavily over the area around the root. Its shafts(?) were slightly thorny so the Adventurer was careful with where he grabbed. But as he dug into the thing, he realized something. This bush was green at the top, and at the bottom. The bush he actually needed was red at its base. The shafts were also tubular in the bush he needed to find. This one? Snap. Solid. The Adventurer sighed, and moved on with his life. On to the next one, loser. Word Count: 323 Roll ID #: 92971. [FAILED] Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #4 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Already slightly deterred because of his inability to follow instructions and know the difference between green and red, the Adventurer checked a few other sets of brush and knelt down to get a closer look at a few. All busts. He gnawed on his lip and scratched his jaw, thinking and looking around himself at the greenery. It all looked the same, why couldn’t it just all be the same? The difficult nature of being able to know the difference between nature was not in his nature, and this was a struggle. But he kept looking. He poked around in a few different green shrubs and spread open a couple different flower patches in search for his target. Not a one was anything close to what he needed. Ten minutes passed and he eventually reached the other end of the patch. Not a single green leafed, red rooted plant thing was in sight. The closest he had got was a flower, but that was a flower. He needed a tubed root thing. Flowers not included. He let out a sigh and sat down on a fallen tree. He crossed his hands and stared out towards the field, watching a few other players fight their boars. There were about ten brave souls out there, and they all seemed to be doing well. Two of them were working together, too. That was a nice sight. After spending time in this world, he had learned that combat wasn’t a joke when it came to swordsmanship. As an officer, he had the luxury of staying behind tools and having to use his hands to handle uncooperative types. TASERs were the most fun. They weren’t lethal and he could shoot most people with them if the person decided to run. Watching those who made him put in extra effort during the late-night shifts flop around like fish was quite satisfying. The first time he’d used the TASER gun on someone, they fell flat on their back and wet themselves. Good times. He let out a chuckle at the memory and glanced back at the forest behind him. This world was different, and it was new, but there was no reason he couldn’t make fun memories like that here. It would take a while. No doubting that. But he’d get comfortable. He could walk without feeling a scrapping in his back again and could happily do his job. That meant more to him than anything. So if it meant he had to live in this place for a while and leave his family behind, then he’d accept the trade off. He looked down at his hands and rubbed them together softly, feeling the smoothness of his once-rough hands. A change he wasn’t accustomed to yet. After living a life of labor and sports, his hands were a bit beat up. All of that was gone in this world. Rather than feel cracks and scars, the smooth skin was more inviting to touch. Not that he was complaining. Not having to put on lotion every few hours was a blessing. The Adventurer finished his short break and rose back to his feet. He stretched, made the motion to crack his back, and turned towards the forest. He scanned the area again and considered where he should move to next. Just as he made his choice, he heard a rustling. Looking to his right, a rabbit darted out of sight and through some shrubbery. “No…” The man muttered, eyeing a faint color of red. In the aftermath of the lone stampede, the greenery was swaying. With each flick of the leaves, he caught a glimpse of color that was not green. He took a few steps away from where he was sitting and checked. “…why?” Right there, in front of his face, was his objective. He grumbled and plucked a few tubes and set them into a small pouch. He mentally marked it off the list and moved on. That was one. Four to go. Next; boar tooth. Oh boy. Word Count: 672 Roll ID #: 92972. [SUCCESS]. Gathered [1/5] Materials. Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #5 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) After leaving the forest, he headed back in the direction of the city. He had the glorious choice of a few dozen different boars so it didn’t matter which one he picked. Just as long as he picked one with tusks, that would do fine. To his joy and glory, there were about four in sight. That meant he had four chances to get the drop. All he had to do, was not screw up. But just in case, he consulted the paper to ensure he was on the right track. Not just because he wanted to be sure. He didn’t want to waste his time. As he looked at the paper, he noticed that the ink had been smudged. He squinted and licked his thumb. Very gently, he rubbed away some of the extra ink and reread the words. No. It did not read “Boar Tooth”. No, it read “Berry Root”. The Adventurer’s eye twitched with frustration and his grip intensified on the paper. A corner wrinkled under the pressure. He sighed and looked up. One of the boars he had been planning to kill lumbered on by him, just a few feet away. It huffed and kicked at the dirt, making its way to another patch of grass to graze. He didn’t know how to feel right now. Should he be mad? Upset? Frustrated? Yes? “I’m going to lose hair over this.” He muttered and looked around for a familiar sight. Out of all the things this scientist fellow needed, it had to be another bush. Flowers were one thing, but a bush was another. They all looked the same on the outside. You had to dig into the bush if you want to know more about it. That or just get good at identifying leaves. Something this man was not. A few hills over, he spotted green. Green that looked like it was what he needed. He nodded and started to make his way over. Word Count: 328 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #6 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) If it was that easy, he would have found the other tube plant on his first try. But life wasn’t kind, and those watching down deciding everyone’s fate just loved to play tricks. This was one of them. That green patch? Yea it wasn’t a bush. It was just a patch of overgrown grass that a big hog was laying in. The silhouette of the boar made the patch seem thicker than it was, fooling the unlucky Adventurer. The man scoffed and went to the next sighting of shrubbery. This time, it was a lot more exciting. This time an actual bush awaited the player. He was a single hill away when he was able to confirm the shape of the green object and it actually made him a little bit happy. Happy because this was one more step towards being rid of this obnoxious portion of the quest. He even picked up his pace a little. But, the closer he came to the bush, the more he began to realize that he was being messed with again. Bush, yes. Check. That was one half of the required vegetable he needed to find. The second half? Berry. Berry, bush. That was what he needed to find because the requested item was a root of that bush. This bush? Not a berry bush. Flower bush. Not. Even. Close. The man stood in front of the bush, staring at its freshly budded flowers and clenched his jaw. Part of him wanted to slash the green thing. If it was a human being, it would probably be laughing at him. Luckily for the bush, he could hear no laughing. The man grumbled and walked away, continuing his search. Word Count: 285 Roll ID #: 92981. [FAILED] Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #7 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Boredom was beginning to rear its ugly head as the fellow scanned the area for his long, lost lover; the Berry Bush. They had never met before but he sure as hell wished they were here right now. He could feel his heart ache as he desperately (not really) scoured the horizon. It weighed on him to do this, to be so alone! What would he do if he never found his lover, Berry Bush?! He would probably give up, that’s what. This was a quest that he had stumbled upon, and from the wording of the old man he probably wouldn’t even be remembered if he kept right on playing this Death Game without ever finding the bush. So just like he had stumbled into the life of the old man, he could stumble out. It was that easy. Even so, here he was. Staring at another bush in the distance that probably wasn’t the correct one. He gave himself a moment after spotting it and eyed the object. He searched for any little detail that it could possibly be a berry bush. As much as he liked to walk and didn’t mind physical activity; there were a lot of hills around here. After staring at the bush for about a minute or so, the Adventurer watched something incredible. A boar wandered up to the bush, tail wagging, snout sniffing. It strode up on its four little legs and sniffed the bush. Its head twisted about, and the nit nipped. It tugged and pulled an object off a stem. The whole bush shook, and the player started to walk. That boar would do that for one of two reason; to get a berry, or to get a leaf. The boar hadn’t eaten green with that bite so that meant only one thing. “Berries.” The Adventurer said, looking down at the blueberry bush and the boar. Eating its fill, the boar didn’t even turn its head to look up at the new figure. Well, not at first anyway. The Adventurer stood there and stared at the boar for a few breathes before its head finally came back out of the green feast. Upon spotting the larger human, the boar squealed in fright and bolted. On most days, the Adventurer would have taken the chance to perform a sneak attack or would have chased the boar. But this was not most days. That boar would not give him the materials he needed to finish this quest. The bush would. Said bush met its match when the player used his sword and hands to rip up some of its roots. He gathered up a few strips and twigs, then went about his day. Two of five. Three to go. Word Count: 457 Roll ID #: 92982. [SUCCESS]. Gathered [2/5] Materials. Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #8 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Next on his list, which he this time checked twice for spelling errors, was something so simple he couldn’t miss it. The only problem; there were well over a hundred in the vicinity that could be the right choice. He needed a plant, just like the other two materials he had gathered so far but not just any plant. No, he needed a tree. Not the whole tree but a stick with some leaves. He needed the leaves, not the tree. The only problem was that all of the trees looked the same. Sure, you had different bark textures, different shades and colors of the trunks, slightly different leaf shapes and textures to the leaves, different smells… Those were the noticeable things that one could really use to discern one tree from another. The only problem was that our little Adventurer barely knew the difference between wood in the hardware store, even when there were labels. If he needed a 4x4 block of wood, he grabbed a 4x4 block of wood. It didn’t matter if it was oak or pine. If It did what he needed, then that was fine. Now, the difference for him was what he was using the wood for. Only then did he pay attention to detail. At that point, however, the trees were no longer standing. They no longer had bark, and no longer had leaves. So once again; his experience here was zero. The piece of paper in the Adventurer’s hand specifically asked for a set of leaves. Ten of them that the crafter could use to make one set of material out of. He assumed that the higher number was because the older man needed more than one leaf to get the necessary amount of material for the potion. But what kind of leaf did this guy need? Did he need oak leaf? Yew leaf? There was no specific name given, so maybe he could just use any regular leaf? Scratching his head, the Adventurer grumbled and looked around. Spotting what he wanted, he wandered over. Two men with armor and spears were chatting on the side of the road. Likely older players or guards. Furrow decided that rather than take multiple trips or grab a bunch of different leaves in hopes of being right, he’d just ask. “Excuse me.” Furrow approached the two fellow players and stepped loudly to make himself known. As he approached, he called out and got the attention of the two. They had already seen him coming and were waiting, but it was always polite to pardon for attention. “’Sup newbie?” The slightly shorter spear wielder asked, his body weight shifting as he addressed the new face. Furrow recognized it as a passive motion. No threat here. “I’m in a bind. Did either of you complete the…” Speaking in geek was a bit strange. “…quest line for the older alchemist fellow?” Furrow asked, his eyes shifting between both players. “Ah! For that Zackary guy?” Shorty said in a slightly more excited tone than Furrow was ready for. “Zackariah.” His partner instantly corrected him. Instantly. “Whatever. Close enough.” Shorty shrugged. “Yea we both did it. Did it a while ago, actually. Why, what’s up? Can’t find something?” The helpful attitude was much appreciated. “I had him write down the materials, but he only wrote down ‘Tree Leaves’ for this one here.” Furrow handed the paper over to the other two and let them scrutinize it for a few moments. Shorty chuckled. “What is this, a grocery list from your wife?” He jabbed. Furrow shrugged. “No, hers are much more thorough,” he answered. The other two players glanced to one another, then started to laugh. Furrow cracked a grin and lightly wiggled the paper to get them back on track. They laughed for a little longer, then refocused. “Uh, yea, sorry. The tree you’re looking for is in the same patch as that bush with the red root. Over there on the hill. I forget which tree it was, but I called it the caterpillar tree.” Shorty pointed in the direction of the familiar tree bunch. “The old man had to tell me to find the caterpillars after my fourth trip back to him with the wrong branch.” Knowing Furrow wasn’t the only person who had some issues with this quest was a relief. It made him feel a little better. “Ah, okay. Thanks. I appreciate the help.” Furrow pocketed the paper and shook the hands of both other players. They grinned and nodded. “Of course.” “No problem! Good luck!” Turning back to the patch, Furrow made a beeline for the trees. He glanced back at the two players after he was some distance away and watched them hurry off to help another lower leveled person with a boar. They were good guys it seemed, and likely were hanging around for the purpose of helping out. Knowing that such people existed was nice. In this world of fear and death, seeing people willing to put themselves on the like to help others was quite refreshing. Now that he saw it, and now that he thought about it, this must have been what it was like for civilians to look at him once he had become an officer. While that made him happy to know some people probably saw him as a helpful and relieving presence, he could also see where that joyful emotion could be turned upside down. To some, him being present was a blessing. To others… he was a nuisance. “Focus.” He muttered, pulling his mind back to the task at hand. He blinked and strode up the short incline and went straight back into his work. Word Count: 949 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #9 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Look for the caterpillars, he said. They’re in the patch, he said. “So… where are they?” Furrow, angrily, spat. He glanced around at the bunch of different, exactly-the-same-looking, trees. He checked under the bark, checked under the leaves, shook the branches, examined surrounding brush. Not a single sign of caterpillars was in sight. There weren’t even butterflies in the air. No cocoons, no butterflies, no worm-like inch-crawlers. Not a one. Furrow scratched his head and flexed his jaw, concerned for the well-being of himself and those in this game. How did players do this kind of stuff for hours on end? Now that he was wasting his precious moments searching for a single item, he couldn’t understand why people did it. Why they would waste they time, throwing it away like this, he did not know. And yet… Yet he still found himself searching. He looked high and low for those caterpillars. He plucked through a few fallen trees and even considered climbing a few. If it wasn’t for the difficulty of climbing, he probably would already be in the canopy. Then, just when he thought it was all over, he spotted a detail. Caterpillars were tiny insects, very tiny, and they blended in with their environment. Any ordinary person wouldn’t ever be able to find them if they were searching around all willy-nilly. This made searching for the caterpillar itself difficult. But there was another thing Furrow remembered. Caterpillars, were insects. Caterpillars lived off vegetation and ate mainly tree leaves. This meant that certain trees with a certain number of caterpillars would have quite a number of leaves with chunks missing out of it. And it just so happened that one of those trees was what Furrow found. It was a shorter, much younger tree slightly off to the side of the larger trees. Its branches hung low, but its leaves were plentiful as it tried to get as much sunlight as possible. This larger number of leaves made it a great home for little bugs, specifically; caterpillars. Furrow checked the tree and didn’t find any at first, but when he squinted and examined the tree closely, he saw them. Crawling around up high and barely able to be distinguished from the leaves and branches themselves, the inch-crawlers were plentiful. He smirked and nodded, then snapped off a branch with a large number of green leaves. Beneath one of the leaves, a tiny green insect crept into view. Furrow watched the little fellow and stuck out his finger. It crawled ever so nimbly up onto the exposed finger and started to make its way around on Furrow’s hand. The Adventurer chuckled and carefully returned the critter to the tree. He inspected the branch he had taken for other caterpillars. Finding none, he pocketed the stick and moved on. Word Count: 469 Roll ID #: 92998. [SUCCESS]. Gathered [3/5] Materials. Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #10 Share Posted December 29, 2017 Next on the list was a vegetable. An actual vegetable this time. Furrow grimaced at the thought of having to steal one from some poor farmer or something but also didn’t want to pay. He sighed and began to think a little. He needed a tomato, and if he wanted it then he needed to get it probably when it was ripe. Tomatoes were plentiful in this town, so getting one wouldn’t be too difficult. If he searched in the wild, he probably could find a wild tomato somewhere but how long would that take him? Hours? Days? …Years? “Buy it, you cheapskate.” Sighing in defeat, Furrow shrugged and trudged on back towards the city. There was a farm in the area but it was on the opposite side of the fields he was located at. If he wanted to make a straight shot to it, he could have just walked through the fields. That would be if he had a death wish, though. Between where he was and the farm, a family of about ten boars were huddled up and munching away. Provoking that many would lead to his demise, and he didn’t have a suicide note written today. In addition to that, there was the fact that if someone found the paper with the materials on his dead body, he’d be a laughing stock. Taking the long route added a few more minutes to his trip, but it was more worth it than he had initially expected. As he approached the small cabin and the field, the farmer was leaving the field and heading back towards his home. A pie was sitting out on the window sill, likely calling his name. Furrow waved and called out to the man to get his attention. The farmer squinted towards him, then returned the wave. “Sorry to disturb you, old timer.” Furrow said, approaching the older gentleman and extending his hand for a shake. The old man took it, his grip firm. “No worries, Adventurer. How may I help you?” The farmer was tired, Furrow could tell. So he would be quick. “I am here on behalf of Zackariah. He needs some tomatoes for his work. I was wondering if you had any?” Furrow looked out towards the field and scanned its contents briefly. He spotted a few vines and towers, but they lacked the tomato red he was looking for. The farmer followed his eyes and let out a chuckle. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any fresh ones...” The words made Furrow frown. His shoulders slumped a little and he scratched his head. “…but I might have some inside. Come in and sit down for a moment.” The roller coaster of sadness to joy made Furrow’s stomach twist. It was an unfamiliar feeling. After ensuring he wasn’t going to see his breakfast again, he nodded with a smile and followed his elder through the old, sturdy, door into his home. Inside, a woman was standing in front of a hot stove, mending the fire in its belly as she also worked a spoon in a cast iron pot. She looked over to welcome her husband back from the field, and also welcomed the new face. “Ah, a guest! Would you like some lunch?” She asked, her smile and tone warm. The invitation was nice and Furrow was about to decline, but the older man waved him in. He shrugged. “Sure. I would love some lunch.” His wife had always cooked for dinner, no matter how hard or long her day was. It was something she enjoyed, and something he did too. No matter how much she nagged or how much their kids argued at the table, the taste of good food was never ignored. He wondered if she had been a chef in a past life. Furrow removed his blade from his waist and cast his equipment into the magical land of his inventory. He removed his shoes and stepped into the home. The air was warm and comfortable, urging him in. He sat down at the table where the older man had taken a place. “You seem a bit wet behind the ears, especially with your tone. Are you a newer one?” The older man asked, making conversation as his wife finished cooking. Furrow nodded. “No so much new, as we were all dropped here at the same time, but I decided recently to stop hiding behind the walls.” Furrow sat upright in his chair, just as he had been taught in his younger years, and spoke politely. “Ah. Not quite going about it for the glory of adventuring, are you?” As if he could read Furrow like a book, the old man spoke. It was concerning, but Furrow didn’t worry. He didn’t mind, nor did he care, if people saw through him. He knew why he was fighting. “No, I’m not.” Furrow said. “I’m out here because I need to be.” “Don’t let that distract you from the fun of being young.” A laugh escaped the old man’s lips. His entire body seemed to shake with the sound. “Very many of you run about these fields with those weapons of yours, expecting to slay dragons and save the world one day. But sometimes, you all forget what it means to slow down.” The older man looked over to his wife and smiled at her back. Furrow looked to her and immediately understood what he meant. He smiled and relaxed. “Yea. It’s nice to do that once in a while…” Furrow said, almost to himself. He watched the older couple as the wife distributed the plates and set the table. The older fellow offered his help, but she nipped him to stay put as she did her share. She even went so far as to get his food for him. When she offered to do the same for Furrow, he looked to his plate and frowned. They were so similar, it hurt. “No, I uh… I think I will do it.” His fingers curled slightly against his thighs, gripping his pants as he stared at his plate. The older couple looked at him, to each other, and then to him again. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?” The wife asked, her concern only making it a bit worse. He shook his head then took a breath. He sat upright and made his plate. It was rabbit stew, with potatoes, carrots, peas, and a broth just thick enough to mend a weary soul. After they had eaten and chatted for a short while, the wife went to fetch the pie from the sill and the old man looked to Furrow with a grin. “Now… about those tomatoes.” Word Count: 1115 Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #11 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Furrow leaned forward to the table and adjusted the way he sat. He had let himself sprawl out a little in the seat during the meal, but not it was back to business. The older gentleman rose from his chair and walked over to a little stand on the other side of the room. From it, he pulled out a deck of cards. Immediately, Furrow began to sweat. The older man sat back down at the table and removed the cards from the box. He sorted them and placed them into a few different stacks; each stack was a different suit. This was not good. “We will play a little game. Should you win, you will get your tomato. Lose, and you’ll be left to search elsewhere.” The farmer smiled and looked at Furrow. “The game will be simple. You will declare the suit of the card I draw. If you are correct, you get your tomato. You will have three tries.” The aged and weary face of the farmer began to glow with villainy as his smile twisted. Furrow’s jaw tensed and he laced his fingers together in front of him. Three strikes to decide on the suit of the card. It wasn’t exactly rocket science but it was purely a game of luck and chance. While he had played poker and blackjack before, and won quite often at the latter, this was different. With blackjack, he could at least sift through the deck in his mind and count the cards if he played long enough. Poker was a game of wits and mastery of bluffing, as well as having some luck to get the right cards. He could mend his way through that, too. “What’s the catch?” Just in case, he wanted to be sure there weren’t any other hidden rules. The old man winked and continued. “You already know that your chances are one in four, right?” The old man motioned to the sorted cards in front of him. “But that is not quite right. First, you have a one in four chance to get the correct suit. Second, you also have to determine if it is face, or if it is number. Get the suit correct but the face wrong, and you also fail.” The probabilities in Furrow’s mind shifted and he instinctively clenched his hands together. His heart thumped in his chest. All of this for tomatoes. “If you are indecisive about the card, you may pass and I will draw another. Fair?” The old man gathered the cards and began to shuffle. Fair? Of course, it wasn’t fair. The chances of getting the correct choice were quite low now. With the deck being a normal fifty-two, he regularly had a one in four chance to pick the correct card. Now that he had to declare the face, his chances were much lower. Numbers were higher in population of the deck, at forty of fifty-two, but the remaining twelve could bite him. Add together his poor luck with the other materials and he had a feeling that today was not his day. “Sure, I’ll play.” But he decided to play along. The old man had invited Furrow into his home, feed the Adventurer, and gave the stranger some company. Now the wife was about to serve pie. If it meant entertaining the older fellow a little longer and having some fun, Furrow could stomach the cost of a tomato if he needed to buy one. “Wonderful!” Saying it with a smile, the farmer’s face lit up. He shuffled the deck a second time and placed it on the table. “Now, are you ready?” He asked. Furrow swallowed a lump in his throat, and nodded. The first card was drawn. “Clubs, Face.” Furrow declared. The older man looked at him. “A face call, so early?” He asked. Furrow nodded. “Might as well go all in and burn up my luck now.” The Adventurer chuckled and motioned for the card. The old man wiggled his whiskers then grinned. He placed down the card. Clubs. Numbers. “Sorry, young man. That’s one to Dealer.” Crap. Word Count: 686 Roll ID #: 93001. [FAILED] Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #12 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) “Dear, you become quite sadistic when it comes to your cards.” The wife sighed. She set down the piping hit pie in front of the two men and let it simmer there in front of them while she watched their little game. With the first card drawn and played, Furrow could feel the pressure. That was his first guess, and he only had two precious ones left. The fireplace across the room had warmed him, the soup had made him tired, and the pie was now making him sweat. The deck in front of him, on top of all that heat, felt like a blazing summer sun bearing down on him. His mouth became dry and he felt a drip of sweat go down his cheek. The older man across from him never lost his cheeky grin as he watched the Adventurer stress. The next card was drawn after the Farmer taunted Furrow with it, and the man made a face. Furrow didn’t bite. “Pass.” He said. The farmer nodded and set down the card. “Hearts, Number.” The number three card of the heart suit was set down beside the two of clubs. Both cards burned at Furrow. Furrow had considered saying clubs again, but he was glad he didn’t. The next card was drawn a few moments later, and Furrow called for another pass. Two of Clubs. Then, the King of Diamonds. Followed by the Queen of Hearts. Furrow placed a finger on the Queen when she was placed and slid the card over in front of himself. The old man raised his brow at the move and stared at Furrow. “Lady luck.” Furrow declared. The man chuckled and nodded, then drew another. Pass, Ten of Diamonds. Pass, Ace of Spades. Furrow plucked that card and slid it beside the Queen as well. Now, he had the two. That left one more specialty. He waited, bided his time, and continued to pass. One by one, the cards piled up until only a single one was left. Counting and waiting, Furrow put all of his chances on the one card at the bottom. The old man lifted it and held it. “With no cards left, this is your only chance. Understand?” There would be no reshuffling of the deck and no retries. Furrow had used only one of his tries, had two left, but only one mattered. Sitting in his chair, he made the final nod and his declaration. “Joker.” The card you never count on was the one he put his luck on. Word Count: 424 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #13 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) The old man’s head tilted and the wife standing behind him smiled. The card was placed, and the jester was shown. Joker of Trump. “How did you guess?” The old man asked as Furrow picked up the card and looked at it. He smirked. While it was true that most decks only contained the fifty-two cards and four suits, modern decks often had one additional wild card. After a certain year, and into more modern times, that card became a common addition. While this world was placed in the past, Furrow had put his bet on the ignorance of the development team. That and he had counted up to fifty-two already. “Let’s just say that this isn’t my first time seeing cards.” Furrow placed the Joker down beside his Queen and the Ace, finishing his trio. The old man laughed and bowed his head. “I have been beaten. Well played, Adventurer,” the farmer said. Furrow nodded and smiled. “It was fun, thank you.” “Honey, get him some tomatoes, would you?” The man asked his wife, who laughed as she walked over to fetch some. In the meantime, the old man grabbed his plate and plucked a piece of pie. He handed it to Furrow, who happily accepted the plate. The wife returned a few moments after they had started to eat with five ripe, red tomatoes for Furrow to take. After the brief dessert and more chatter, Furrow excused himself and headed for the door. He thanked the two for their hospitality and departed. He equipped his armor and sword for safety’s sake, then continued on his search. With four out of five gathered, he had just one more thing to find. Word Count: 282 Roll ID #: 93010. [SUCCESS]. Gathered [4/5] Materials. Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #14 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) The final item on the checklist was something very easy to find. It was left last because of how common it was, but also because of how annoying it could be to get. Furrow checked the list to confirm its name, then nodded and set off back towards the city. He had all of the items he needed from the outer region, now he just needed to find some place high up and follow the songs. He opened his ears and followed the sound of ringing and singing. He ignored the ones high up in the trees and those that he could not see. Those were well out of reach and far too dangerous to fetch. Instead he focused on those close to the ground and within reach of a ladder. He walked for a short distance, managed to avoid the boars that were looking at him oddly (or hungrily, judging by one of them starting to drool), and eyed a building he figured would fulfill his needs. Word Count: 160 Failed roll ID 93016: BD 8, CD 10, LD 8, MB 7 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #15 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) But of course, it didn’t. He scanned the eaves, checked around the roof itself and listened for the noise. Instead he heard nothing that could be considered close to his goal. He shrugged and moved on. He scratched his head and checked a few other buildings and decided to maybe ask for some help. But all in all; no good. Furrow stood atop a hill and scanned from left to right. He checked a few low-lying branches but he knew they were no good. So, if that was the case, he had no choice but to consider climbing. Whether he wanted to or not, he might have to actually go into the canopy of the taller trees. The other option would be to keep looking, which he decided. Rather than potentially from a height that could kill him, he continued on and wandered about for a while, searching for his goal. Word Count: 151 Failed roll. ID# 93018 results: Battle: 3, Craft: 10, Loot: 3, MOB: 6 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #16 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Just outside of the gate and a little way off to the side of the road, Furrow found what he was looking for. Tucked into the eaves of a horse stable, the sound of softly chirping birds echoed into the air. Furrow looked around and spotted a stack of crates just around the corner of the building. He set down his tomatoes and went to moving them. He stacked them carefully and climbed up until he was able to peer into the little nest. Upon reaching the height, he was greeted by two confused parents who he only imagined were very concerned as to why a human was looking at them. Then, he robbed them. He plucked a blue egg from the nest and ran. An angry mother chirped loudly and didn’t waste a second. She swooped down to just over his head and started to peck at him, drilling his skull with her hardened beak. Furrow cursed and tried to wave the bird of, but she was not having any of it. Anything he put near her, she shoved her beak at and assaulted him. Without much choice, he snagged his tomato basket and bolted for the city. The guards at the gate and several players in the vicinity looked over to watch the thief. He cursed more and more, swatting ever more desperately as he tried to get away. As he passed through the gate though, he realized she was in this for the long haul. Furrow gave up his swatting and sighed. The bird landed on his head and began to drill at his skull, pecking here and there, everywhere. He walked through the city, lips pulled taut and eyes lowered as he muttered pained “ows” under his breath with each peck. Even when he returned to the workshop, she was still at it. Looks like he had made another friend. Striding into the workshop with materials, and bird, in tow, Furrow rolled his shoulders and stretched his back. He looked around for the owner as he made his way to the counter. He found himself alone, though. The sounds of bubbling potions, a crackling fireplace, and the bird on his head were all he was greeted with. No old scientist, and no laugh about the bird. Furrow rolled his jaw and then began to empty the materials onto the counter. When he set down the bird egg, the mother on his skull immediately squatted down on it. Likely done to keep it warm. Furrow stared at the bird and reached up to feel his head. No scratches or blood, and all of his hair was intact, so no harm done. Well, to him. He waved at the bird to try and get her away, but she just stabbed his hand. He sucked his teeth and squinted at her. The bird squinted back. “Ah, you’ve returned!” Suddenly, the back door burst open and the legend reappeared. Furrow’s eyes opened a bit as he beheld the sight. Zackariah looked as if he had just been through an explosion. His hair was frizzled, his face blackened, his clothes slightly torn and disheveled. Furrow was immediately concerned. “U-Uh…” Furrow’s mouth hung open slightly, unable to really process the view. Zackariah paid him no mind though and held up a finger. The man slipped back into the other room and returned a few minutes later, clean and unscathed. Seeing that Zackariah wasn’t hurt brought relief, and Furrow relaxed again. “I asked for an egg, not the bird.” Zackariah pointed out the first oddity on the counter. Furrow was happy that was all he’d seen. “The egg is under the bird.” Furrow proclaimed. “Under the bird?” “Under the bird.” “Why is it under the bird?” “Because the bird is mom.” “You stole it?!” “Well how else did you want me to get the egg?” “A chicken egg, you dolt!” Oh right. Chickens were birds. “Agh, well good thing I had some brought over just in case.” Zackariah whistled. Out from a small pile of fur in the corner, a little fox pattered over. Furrow stepped away from the creature a bit, surprised by its appearance. Zackariah picked up the bird, and the egg, and set them both down on the fox. He gave it a brief order, then the fox scampered out the front door. “Now then, let me check the rest to make sure you retrieved those correctly at least.” The old man’s complaint wasn’t unfounded, so Furrow kept his mouth shut. Of the remaining materials, the old man seemed to have been satisfied. He picked through the tomatoes, examined them, and gave them a gentle squeeze to check their firmness. Next, he checked the tree leaves to ensure they were correct. He gave them a feel, a sniff, and even a taste before moving them across the table. Third, he checked the berry bush roots. He didn’t taste these but seemed content with their scent. Apparently, they smelled of blue berries, too, which Furrow doubted. He didn’t smell blue berries on them. At least, not from the distance he kept. Lastly came the first set of vegetation; the red roots from the forest bush. He gave them a once over before nodding. Satisfied, he gathered up the materials and went into the back room. “Wait here.” He had said, so Furrow did just that. After all; the older fellow had promised a reward when Furrow had first entered the shop. Left alone again, Furrow crossed his hands in front of himself and waited patiently. He heard some banging and rattling, but there were no sounds of someone dying so he figured the older man was doing alright. In the middle of his waiting, the fox returned through the front door. Furrow gave it a look and watched the creature slip back into the pile of fur, disappearing beneath. Lucky him. Zackariah returned through the door with a small box. He set it down and began to take out a plethora of items and equipment. All of it, Furrow assumed, would be used in order to craft a potion. Furrow had been told he would be getting a reward, and since the older fellow had sent him to get materials for recovery items, he assumed that would be the sort of reward he would receive. But after three more trips to the back room, and after everything looked to be set up, the older man pushed all of the materials over to Furrow. Concerned, Furrow stared at the materials for a few moments, then pushed them back. He met the eyes of Zackariah. The old potion maker smiled. Oh no… “Yes.” “No.” “You will.” “I will not.” “How do you expect to progress?” “By using my sword.” “Are you a brainless zombie?” “I’m a soldier, not an alchemist.” “Can you cook?” “Yes, I can cook.” “Then you are an alchemist.” “Cooking isn’t alchemy.” “Is it not? You are mixing ingredients together in order to create something new.” “Alchemy is science.” “Cooking is a science, as well.” “But it isn’t alchemy.” The two men stared at each other, with Furrow more than happy to be on the defensive in this battle of words. Zackariah sighed, his hand rubbing his temples. The old man massaged them gently as he thought of a way to get through to the stubborn Adventurer. Furrow was a tough cookie to crack, but he wasn’t impossible. None of his kind were impossible. But was it worth the effort? Furrow didn’t think so. Making potions was interesting and all, but he had money for that. Knowing his luck, everything would blow up in his face. “Once. Just do it once.” Zackariah attempted to compromise but Furrow’s jaw tensed. He looked down at the ingredients and the complexity that was the setup. He was afraid to even touch the mess of stuff in front of him. He had seen how Zackariah looked when the older man had come out of the back room. Furrow only had one set of clothes in this world. He couldn’t risk losing them. “No, I’m sorry but I would rather take a fraction of the reward then possibly destroy your tools.” Furrow held up his hands in defeat. Zackariah pressed, though. With a new angle this time. “Well unfortunately, these potions are your reward. I will show you how to make them and you will make them using the materials you gathered. If you need help, I’m going to be watching over you.” Zackariah slid the materials back towards Furrow and essentially left him with the choice. Make the potions, or leave with your time wasted. Indeed, Furrow was a difficult Adventurer to handle. Furrow grimaced as the materials were set out in front of him and he hesitated. While the idea of leaving seemed quite enticing, he didn’t like to waste time. Plus he had told himself he would see this through to the end. He wasn’t a quitter, and he never let anything deter him from success. “Alright. Show me.” If learning how to do a little survival craft meant potentially scalding off his face, then he would accept the older man’s offer. Furrow took this as an opportunity to grow and make himself better. If he could learn this, then he could figure out almost anything else this world had to throw at him. So far he had learned quite a bit because of this quest. What was another few things? Word Count: 1579 Success roll: ID# 93019 results: Battle: 3 Craft: 3 Loot: 18 MOB: 1 Materials 5/5 Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #17 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Furrow listened to the instructions of the older gentleman and began to prep the ingredients. Using a pestle and motor, he ground the leaves down from the caterpillar tree. He put his muscles into it and kneaded them until the bunch of green was turned into a mushy substance. The leaves seemed to grind down fairly easily, so he figured that was why they were needed for this type of job. That and maybe the leaves had special regenerative properties. Wait, was that why all of the caterpillars were on that one tree? “Next, mix this liquid with the roots and the crushed leaves.” The older man handed Furrow a large glass container with some kind of clear, but bubbling, fluid. The Adventurer dared to sniff it but regretted the decision. His nose burned with the scent of salt. Zackariah was unamused and simply waited until Furrow had continued with the process. After dispensing the root and the leaves into the liquid, Furrow was given a stirring rod and told to stir. Following instructions, Furrow took the small glass rod and swirled the roots and leafy mush in with the clear liquid. The green mush dissolved first, spreading out and changing the clear color to a light green. The roots went next, darkening the green. “Now, crack the egg and place the yolk in that pan. Drop the shell into the liquid.” The old alchemist slid Furrow a pan with an egg on it, a chicken egg. Furrow cracked the egg on the pan and dumped the inner fluids onto it. He dropped the shell into the liquid as requested. Next, he put in the bush roots and mixed those as well. The aroma of salt faded and began to smell a bit more appealing, but not a whole lot. The color was also getting darker rather than the bright red he remembered health potions being. That changed when Furrow was told to grind down the tomato and add it in. After doing as told, he applied the tomato paste to the liquid and started to stir. But, the color did not change. Furrow’s eyebrows rose a bit and he looked at the old man. Zackariah sighed and held up a hand. “It failed.” “Failed? But I followed your instructions.” “Yes, you did, but this is the downside to alchemy. There are times when the properties of the ingredients aren’t quite right. It is the same with food. You may cook the same meal over and over, but there is always those few times where things just don’t taste right.” The old man took the glass from Furrow and poured the black drink into another pot off to the side. He rinsed out the container and set it back down on the table. Zackariah resupplied the materials and slid it all over to Furrow. “Once more.” Furrow nodded and tried again. Word Count: 481 Roll ID #: 93012. [FAILED] Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #18 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Furrow followed the instructions of the old man once more, but this time he showed patience. He mended the leaves with an extra touch of finesse to ensure they were properly ground. He checked each of the roots for their quality and checked with Zackariah to ensure there weren’t any abnormalities about them. Comfortable, he mixed them in with the liquid and began to stir. Once more, the clear liquid changed color. First, a light green, then it darkened. But this time, it didn’t become as dark. The color was still a lighter green and Furrow was able to see the stirring stick in the liquid. It wasn’t cloudy, and it wasn’t thick. It looked almost like colored water. Zackariah nodded and Furrow continued. He cracked the egg onto the pan, cleaned out all of the liquid from the shell with a small spoon, and then carefully dropped shell into his concoction. It melted away evenly, and the color dimmed just a slight amount. Urged on by the lack of a dark and slightly thick liquid, Furrow patiently stirred the liquid until he was sure all of the egg shell had been dissolved. Careful and attentive, he waited. Unable to see any kind of debris left, that was when he stopped stirring and prepped the tomato. He removed the stem and leaves from the vegetable fruit to ensure he only applied the tomato. He hollowed out the seeds, then began to crush it down. Like the leaves, he made it into a paste. He took a bit longer this time with the tomato until there weren’t any chunked or large bits. When he applied it to the fluid, the light green began to dye into a red. The color shifted from the green to a bright pink for a few moments. As Furrow stirred, the color darkened slightly but the sweet aroma told Furrow that the color change wasn’t to be worried over. A few more moments, and the potion in his hand gave off a faint glow. Furrow pulled out the stirring rod and tapped it lightly against the edge of the container. Zackariah gave him a vial and a funnel. Furrow set the vial into one of the holding stands and used the funnel to guide the liquid into it. He filled the vial up to about six-eights to where the mark was. Zackariah set a few more vials into the stand and let Furrow finish the batch. He had made six potions total. “Well done, Adventurer.” Zackariah said as Furrow placed the glass container down. Furrow let out a sigh and stared at the six vials. He felt accomplished, seeing those. Word Count: 444 Roll ID #: 93015. [SUCCESS] Created Healing Potion. Edited December 29, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #19 Share Posted December 29, 2017 Success breeds success, and Furrow felt actually pretty good about himself. He had been quite a bit of a downer the entire time, but not that he had finished the potions he began to understand. The grind of having to find materials, the annoyance of digging up hidden quest items, having to search and sometimes take risks to complete quests, and then needing to have a little faith in your luck. It was all apart of one, simple concept; enjoying the game. Furrow always believed that gamers enjoyed killing one another in big shooters and played open-world games simply to throw their lives away and waste time. He never saw these things as anything enjoyable. Even when he had bought gaming systems for his children, he never saw their value. He never understood why they were so excited to finish a game in eight hours and then never play it again, or what it meant to really fight through a hard level. He didn’t have experience in either of those, but this quest gave him a glimpse. He had spent several hours looking for just five items, and then spent time trying his luck at putting those items to use. Sure he had failed, sure he had trouble, but after all of his hard work there were vials in front of him. Vials that would be used by other Adventurers to fuel their own trials. It felt good. “I have one more task for you.” Zackariah held up his finger and leaned down behind his counter. He reached into a slot Furrow couldn’t see and pulled out a small package with a name on it; Lyle. Lyle? “Delivery?” Furrow assumed and reached for the package. Zackariah nodded, then handed it over. Furrow held it carefully just in case the object was fragile and tucked it under his arm. “Yes. It’s some materials I promised Lyle the other day. If you could take it to him, I would much appreciate it. He will handle your reward.” Oh, so Zackariah didn’t plan on giving up any potions in the end, huh? Jerk. Wait, that meant… Furrow sighed and nodded. Zackariah provided the directions and shooed Furrow out the door. Furrow grumbled and didn’t wait to be told twice. He bid his farewell and headed out into town. The workshop for Lyle wasn’t all that far off, but it was a few minutes worth of a walk. Word Count: 404 Link to post Share on other sites
Furrow 0 Posted December 29, 2017 Author #20 Share Posted December 29, 2017 (edited) Furrow gave the alchemist shop behind him a last glance and mentally marked the location. If he needed potions, or help with them, he knew where to go. Content with that he set off on his way. Furrow kept the package tight to his side and walked through the somewhat paved streets. The Town of Beginnings bustled with activity. It was midday, leaning into the early evening, so some players who were late risers were heading out. Those who had gone out early were coming back. And those who were cycling through for their evening runs were passing through. Trade was alive, and the smell of food filled the streets. The city of Adventurers, the Town of Beginnings, was a beautiful place. One turn after another, Furrow was reminded as to why he hadn’t minded spending his days in these walls, trapped like some kind of scarred rabbit. If this city wasn’t as fun or lively, he likely would never have decided to make something of himself. After seeing that other player die, he likely would have just assumed the worst and done the same. But this place, and these people, showed him that even in the worst of times, he can fight. It was a feeling he once had when he was young. The years of doing nothing had dimed that light. But now, he felt that fire again. It helped him walk forward, it made the weight he felt on his shoulders lighter, and it kept him awake. He didn’t waste his time trying to get drunk anymore and didn’t sit on a rooftop to watch the sun rise and set. He was moving. He was alive again. He followed the instructions given to him and passed through the center of town, keeping to its edges to avoid all of the fanfare in the middle as he circled through. Lyle’s workshop wasn’t much further so he picked up his pace. He took one last turn to the left and spotted the wooden marker hanging over a doorway. Skillfully etched into the door, the word’s “Lyle’s Workshop” greeted him. Furrow grabbed the handle, popped the lever with his thumb and pushed it open. A bell rang and a smiling face greeted him. “Welcome!” Another old man called out from an anvil. Furrow closed the door behind him and approached the counter. The older gentleman set down his hammer, brushed off his hands and walked to greet the new face. Furrow set the package on the wooden table top between them. “Ah, this must be from Zackariah. Thank you, young man.” The aged man, grabbed the package and carried it over to his workspace. “Are you Lyle, sir?” Furrow asked. “Why yes I am. Lyle Tealeaf. Pleasure to meet you, Mister...?” Lyle walked around the counter on his way back. Furrow extended his hand, not too bothered by the grim on the other man’s. Lyle’s bearded face turned upwards in a smile at the gesture. “Furrow, Jake Furrow. The pleasure is mine.” “I was told that I would be seeing someone from Zackariah’s sometime today. You’ve come right when I need a hand. Do you have some time to spare?” At his question, Furrow immediately felt his stomach flutter. He remembered the difficulty of the previous quest and when he looked at how dusted this man was, he was a little scared. But it was that feeling that made him smirk. He nodded. “Of course. How can I help you?” Word Count: 580 Final Objective Completed, Quest Completed. Ready for Review. Quest Summary: Rewards: x5 Tier One Health Potions of Uncommon Quality (+40HP), x1 Tier One Damage Potion. (+1 Damage) , x1 Tier One Over-Health Potion (+50 Temp. HP), +3 Skill Points, +400 Col Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow Link to post Share on other sites
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