A fresh mixing completed, I check the appraisal again. Disgusting, awful, stinking, bloody, toxic, sickening mixtures. I don’t know what this stupid status’ problem is with me, but I’m getting tired of all this complaining. This is exactly what the book told me to do, so clearly I’m not in the wrong.
The first level in mixing sadly still hasn’t appeared, but this is so much fun that I can’t help myself and continue. It’s no mud, but really slamming my hands down in all this mashed whatever it is right now is very pleasing and fulfilling. I don’t know why.
As I’m readying to include my newest ingredient, a bird carcass discovered laying outside, I grab it too excitedly and tear a long gash on my hand with its claws. My mud begins slowly dripping down my arm from the wound as I hold it high up in the air to squint and inspect. Is it worth using the red world stone to fix this? No, hardly. It’s too precious of a treasure to waste on something so minor. Instead, I slam my hands back into the pot to tear, punch, and pulverize the bird deep into the brimming mash’s homogeneity.
The light unexpectedly flashes in my face, taking me by surprise. That’s it? Did I just have to fill the pot completely? Why didn’t the book mention that?
Another flash appears alongside the first.
Two more lights promptly followed in rapid succession. What’s all this? Did I do good? Looking down, I realize that the contents of the pot has turned a very dark shade of brown. So dark that it’s almost black. What happened? What is this?
My eyes widen, my mouth gapes, and my shoulders sink in awe at the new mystery. What is proto-mud? Is it better than regular mud? Hm.
Shrugging my thoughts away, I struggle to carry the now excessively heavy pot over to the corner. In the impromptu filing spot, I then dump the contents out against a wall, carefully scraping the last of it out with my hands. No clue what to do with this, if anything at all, so I’ll let it safely sit here for now. Having achieved my goal, I excitedly rush back to reading in the pool.
Congratulations on your first level in mixing! As only the beginning of your long journey, prepare yourself for many, many more accomplishments to come! Now, let’s begin focusing on mixing with more intention. From here on out, successful mixtures count far more than failures. Even spectacular ones! Cooking is a common followup path, as food ingredients are usually easy to procure. However, be careful to always keep the dish very simple. Two ingredients max. Otherwise you will risk failing due to lacking the cooking skill, as odd as that sounds. This world is simply far different than what you know from home.
Cooking? What’s cooking? I don’t have that song. Do I even want that song? It states that it wishes me to succeed but then immediately speaks in riddles on how to do so.
If food is scarce, then it may be better to pursue the beginnings of herbal compounding. Most locations should have ample simple herbs, flowers, or other plant life not far outside your town walls. Just keep thoroughly mixing whatever is available into clean water. Once you find an ingredient that works, simply repeat its creation over and over as you progress through the entire mixing skill foundation tier. Alternatively, taking apprenticeship at a metal workshop is a reliable path. Recall that mixing encompasses the combination and separation, so a simple smelting apprenticeship suffices in addition to providing value to your community. Whichever path you chose, return here once the mixing skill has reached full mastery. Later chapters will discuss potential options for the next skill tiers.
First this cooking, now silly flowers and rare metals? Why does it matter what I mix? I only need to find one working combination, and then it’s simply practice, practice, practice. The book said so. This proto-mud is already one success, but I’m not altogether sure how it happened. It took so long, and there were so many ingredients. I doubt I can remember even half of them.
I’ll have to find another recipe. Plants are so disgustingly clean and love the sun, so I hesitate to use them for anything. However, they do grow up from the dirt and mud. Maybe I can give them a try.
Readying to leave the cave, I appraise the now empty big skins and status refers to them as “leather backpacks”. A ridiculous name since I’ll clearly be wearing one on my chest. Regardless, I must admit that it’s easier to use the names from status rather than my own improvisations when I can. If only to more easily recognize when I find more of them. Although, while quickly appraising the other items, I notice that some still remain mysteries. I don’t know why. Maybe my appraisal song needs to improve?
For the next few hours, I scout around outside for every tiny plant I can find. Tearing them from the ground one by one, I then toss them into the open backpacks like a machine. Appraisal doesn’t give me very helpful results. It usually says nothing but “herb”, “grass”, or “flower”. However, I recall the book mentioning herbs specifically, so I shall focus on only gathering these right now.
Fully loaded, I weakly wobble and climb back up the hills to the cave. The packs are so heavy that I’m exhausted upon my return. I’ve run out of big rocks in the mud room to lay things on without them getting prematurely messy. Therefore, I decide to dump all the plants on the floor further up towards the cave entrance where the mud won’t reach. It’s not far, so I can just occasionally ferry smaller bunches at a time while working.
Stopping to admire my work, I realize that the sun’s coming up. I must have labored the whole night! I’ll make my bed in the mud for the daylight, and then get right back to plant mixing tomorrow evening.