It was the girl who attracted Wen. One glimpse and her fingers started itching. It was a welcome reaction since her pool of inspiration had dried up after finals. She had been happy to finally finish her graduation piece, and the price it'd brought had been enough to pay for her capsule.
Unlike most of the gamers who flocked to buy capsules nowadays, thinking of quick riches with the release of the conversion platforms, Wen belonged to that growing minority who was looking for something else. She'd listened to the long-winded explanation of her one gamer friend who'd extolled the virtues of gold mining without blinking.
Major corporations had poured funds into the game, looking to attract eyeballs and bodies to their various projects and goods. They'd found that the gamers already playing were more than willing to work as if in real life for their goals, which could align with the corporations' goals if put in the right way. The gamers were also willing to pay real life money if it helped them do those things.
Such was the birth of the gold miners. Many things could be bought on the auction platforms which were run by both the gamers and NPCs. The NPCs would sometimes sell things for cheap that the players seriously wanted, looking on in bemusement as the prices skyrocketed.
Some corporations had noticed this variant and were starting to take advantage of it. The result was that there was a booming little economy fast developing over things crafted in the game.
Plus, you didn't have to be a hardcore gamer in order to play. You could simply walk around, being you. And the scenery in the game was fantastic.
The person who'd taken third place in the graduation tests had submitted two works, a painting of a town square from the game and a portrait of a fishwife selling her wares. The professors had been intrigued.
That had been enough to tell Wen that there was a future in landscapes from the game, the more esoteric, the better. It was a thought reinforced when the pieces had been snapped up at outrageous prices at the after graduation auction.
Wen's piece, a portrait of an up-and-coming young actress, had also sold well, but she'd had to pay a minor sitting fee (the actress was the sister of her cousin's friend) which had bit into the profits. Still, the amount hadn't been small, and more than enough to afford the capsule and a year's paid membership to the game.
Wen had been languishing in her beginner's village, unwilling to actually level up enough to venture elsewhere. She was more than happy to stay. The surroundings were beautiful enough that she'd been able to paint several landscapes in game that both players and NPCs had bought, funding her stay in the best inn the little town had to offer.
Still, that girl…
"Who is she?" Wen asked, capturing the arm of a passing NPC and pointing at the dilapidated statue standing in the broken fountain.
The only thing visible was part of the girl's face. She wasn't that tall, clad in some sort of robe. The fountain itself was mostly rubble with a bare trickle of water soaking the stones, just enough for the sparrows that came for a beakful.
"Who, her?" The NPC glanced at the girl holding his arm and smiled. Wen was fast becoming famous in their little village. "She's some mage, I think. Shame, but I think the town council is planning on getting rid of the fountain."
Wen bit her lip. It was understandable. The fountain was in grievous disrepair, and she wasn't sure even a master craftsman could rescue it, let alone the statue ruined by neglect and time. If not for the trickle, one would think it was just a bit of rubble shoved in one corner of the town. It was even near the landfill.
"Do you think they'd let me have the remnants of the statue?" Wen asked, glancing back at the statue.
"You'd have to talk to Councilman Rob, then," the NPC said, gently freeing his arm. He looked at the statue and then the artist and shook his head. "There are plenty of other sources of inspiration, you know?"
"Thank you," Wen replied softly, choking back the retorts that bubbled up. She could practically hear her best friend's soft Southern accent cautioning her that sugar caught more flies than vinegar...as well as her mentor's heartfelt agreement. "Do you know where I can find the Councilman?"
"Well, the Council meets tomorrow, but if you're in a hurry, then you can see him tonight at the Hart's Boundary. He eats there every Friarsday." The NPC nodded decisively. "If you ask, he'll probably let you have it. He's the one who's most vocal after all. Wants a fountain of his grandfather in the square, but there's a limit, don't you know?"
"I didn't, but thank you," Wen said, filing away the information. She gave the statue one last look before turning towards the more affluent part of town. "I wish you well this day."
"Ah, manners, so rare these days," the NPC said under his breath. "I wish you well as well, young artist," he called back. He glanced at the statue one last time before shaking his head and going about his day.
*****
"You want to buy that old piece of rubbish?" Councilman Rob wasn't what Wen had expected.
She'd expected a burly man with a hearty laugh or maybe someone who looked scheming. Instead, Councilman Rob looked like her next-door neighbor. He had a bluff, friendly face crowned with curly brown hair. His stocky body wasn't clad in obviously expensive clothing, though you could tell from the faint shine that they weren't cheap. He only wore four rings, two of them seals and no other jewelry.
"You don't have to pay for it. Just take it away," Councilman Rob continued, raising his eyebrows. "Artists are such strange people, aren't they?" He muttered to the others at his table.
"Rob," his wife chided, shaking her head.
"Anyways," Councilman Rob said with an apologetic smile at Wen, "just take it. No need for funds. It'll save us the demolition costs." He paused. "Do you want the fountain pieces as well? Probably bits of it mixed in there, right?"
Wen bit back a laugh. Even when he was trying to be crafty, it was amusing. It was probably one of the reasons he was the head councilman, a fact she'd discovered upon reaching the inn. The 'regular' dinner out was in actuality a mini-council session conducted in a more convivial setting.
"Do you need a wagon, dear?" One of the councilwomen asked, looking concerned.
"Is it that heavy?" Wen asked, startled. Then she wanted to smack herself. Statues weren't light, and they were throwing in the fountain debris as well.
"How about this," Councilman Rob said. "How about we give you the wagon, and in return you take the statue?"
"That does sound fair. Do you need any help putting it on the wagon?" The first councilwoman asked, a smile curving her lips.
"I believe so," Wen slowly replied. "Um, how do I make the wagon move? Do I need horses or cows or something?"
"We'll even throw in two draft horses," Councilman Rob said without blinking.
The whole thing was fishy. It was making Wen wonder just how much was removing the statue and fountain going to cost them initially. Clearly, it was more than the cost of the wagon, horses and whatever help they were going to send to help her.
"Well, then!" Councilman Rob clapped his hands before rubbing them together. "Now that that's out of the way, let's discuss where to put the new fountain!"
Wen bowed slightly and backed away towards the entrance to the large meeting room. One wouldn't have expected the inn to harbor such places which argued for some sort of spatial tinkering going on. The whole setup reminded her of that old sci-fi show her freshman year roommate had been obsessed with, Dr. Something.
The hallway was empty, the server who'd led her here having returned to their duties. Wen shook her head. As she walked, thoughts of the statue permeated her consciousness. Wen stopped and glanced back thoughtfully once she left the inn.
Then she sighed. If there were any problems, she'd deal with them. Something was telling her that she needed to apportion the debris before the helpers arrived in the morning.
*****
Wen wiped the sweat off of her forehead. Checking her status screen, she saw that her stamina had gone down to just a measly 2. She slumped back against the remnants of the fountain.
She'd only logged off long enough to check her real life statuses and do some minor chores like checking her mail and making sure that the nutrient bottles in her capsule were topped up. Wen had opted for the long term version of the capsules at her mentor's suggestion.
She had also bought a monitor screen that covered half of the wall in the room she kept her game capsule in. When untriggered, it showed a split screen of general statuses: the forum, a local newsfeed with weather and a webcam feed from outside her apartment that showed a panorama of the city. When triggered, it would show whatever she wanted from the game.
Its main use was to help her duplicate things from the game into real life. It was able to display a static screenshot, the current view from where she logged out, as well as items. Wen had mainly been using it to refine the pictures she'd done while playing, copying the subject matter into real life.
So far, she'd been able to make rent by selling the copies. There had even been some players who'd paid her real money for her in-game works. That had surprised her more than the market for the copied works.
Wen studied the statue while she thought. Moving the debris showed that the statue had been deliberately damaged some time ago. There were tool marks on some of the broken pieces.
She chucked the piece of statuary she was holding into one of her sacks. Wen had bought them off of a friend who was a beginner seamstress. Her friend was more interested in making adventuring supplies than dresses, specializing in backpacks, sacks, and belts. Wen thought that perhaps she'd confused her occupations, but her friend was happy. She'd been studying an old scrap of fabric when Wen had dropped by her stall.
That was why she'd gotten the sacks for a steal. Wen was also supposed to send her a note about how it did hauling stones. She supposed her friend was planning to move to a mining town after a while and sell her goods there. She'd heard that there were good marbles coming out of some mine in the south somewhere.
She'd need a good piece to replicate the statue.
Wen stood and looked around. Her helpers were supposed to show up soon. At least that's what the wagoneer had said when he led the wagon and horses over. Right now, the horses were snatching up mouthfuls of grass, waiting for the wagon to be loaded.
Wen sighed. She'd loaded most of the smaller pieces of the statue into several sacks already. She was saving the best for last. She picked up her chisel, taking a deep breath.
It wasn't feasible to move the remaining statue in one piece. It'd eroded and been damaged so much that the last few whole bits left would crumble at a hard jounce on the road. She didn't want it to snap midway and possibly lose what integrity was left.
Wen planned on carefully chiseling the head off and then chopping it off at the waist. With luck, it'd be easier to fix it once she found a place to put it.
Her mentor had a grandson who'd power-levelled him enough so that he could venture forth months earlier. He'd mentioned that he had a base in a town to the north.
If she joined a caravan, she'd be able to reach it safely.
She approached the statue, chisel in hand.