Nightclown continued his stroll. Observing everything more closely.
A trio of anthropomorphic chipmunks were constructing something. It looked like an elaborate contraption of pulleys and ropes. Used to reach an oversized acorn hanging from a branch.
One slipped. Tumbling head over heels with a rapid WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP sound. Landing in a pile of leaves. The other two rushed over. Genuinely concerned. Helping him up.
"Are you alright, Squeaky?"
"Just a little dizzy!" Squeaky giggled. Cartoon stars swirling briefly around his head before dissipating.
Nightclown watched. The level of detail. The responsiveness. The emotional range... It all pointed to something far more complex than any virtual reality system he knew from Earth.
This wasn't a world built for him to play in. It was a world he had entered. He was a new character in a story already in progress. The distinction was subtle but critical.
This meant consequences here were real. Injuries, even if temporary, might be genuinely painful. Friendships, or enmities, could be genuinely formed.
He shook his head. A faint swoosh sound accompanying the motion of his ears. Time to focus on the immediate objective. A weapon. He needed something for whatever challenges this Toonworld might throw at him.
He spotted a plume of thick, dark smoke rising from the chimney of a vibrant red roofed house. Some distance away. Was that it? The blacksmith?
Following a slightly wider, less winding path, he approached the much sturdier-looking building. It was constructed of thick, dark-brown timber logs. Reinforced with crude iron bands that gleamed even in the soft cartoon light.
A massive sign hung right over the entrance. Depicting a stylized hammer striking an abstract piece of metal. Groaning with every gust of invisible wind. The sound of metal on metal came from inside. A rhythmic CLANG... CLANG... CLANG.
He pushed open a heavy wooden door. One that creaked with the force of a thousand rusty hinges. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of coal smoke. Hot metal. And something vaguely like burnt sugar.
The flickering light of a roaring forge cast dancing shadows across the cluttered interior. Tools of every imaginable shape and size hung from the walls. Piles of scrap metal gleamed in corners.
It was a chaotic, industrial mess. Yet somehow perfectly organized within its own cartoon logic.
Behind a colossal anvil, a massive figure was hammering furiously at a glowing ingot. The figure was an anthropomorphic gorilla. Easily twice Nightclown's height. With broad, muscled shoulders and a perpetually furrowed brow.
His fur was a deep, charcoal grey. And he wore a leather apron stained with grease and soot. His ham-sized fists wielded a hammer that looked like it weighed more than Nightclown's entire body. Each strike landed with a deafening CLANG! Sending sparks flying.
The gorilla paused. Wiped his brow with the back of a hand. And turned. His eyes, small and beady, fixed on Nightclown.
A deep rumble emanated from his throat. "Another rubber-necked newbie?" He grunted. His voice was like gravel tumbling down a hill. "What do you want? Don't stand there gawking. Time's money, even in this blasted place."
Nightclown raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Good day to you too, Sir. I'm looking to acquire a weapon. Something reliable."
The gorilla snorted. A puff of smoke issuing from his nostrils. "Reliable, eh? Everyone wants reliable. Few are reliable enough to earn one."
He tossed his hammer onto a nearby wooden block with a THWUMP-CLANG that made the floor shake. "Name's Gorhammer. Mr. Gorhammer to you. What kind of weapon you got in mind, Bunny Boy?"
"Nightclown," Jester corrected automatically. "And I'm open to suggestions. Something versatile."
Gorhammer lumbered over to a sturdy wooden counter. Reaching beneath it with a grunt. He pulled out a thick, leather-bound manual. Its cover depicting various stylized weapons. It looked well-worn and slightly singed at the edges.
He slammed it onto the counter. "Here. Basic catalog. Twelve types of basic shapeshifting melee weapons. No magic. No fancy things. Just solid object and good craftsmanship. Read it."
Nightclown picked up the manual. It felt surprisingly heavy. The pages were from rough leather parchment. He flipped it open. The first page had a title in bold, blocky letters. 'Gorhammer's Fundamental Shapeshifting Weapon'.
Below, each page detailed a different weapon. Accompanied by a crude but effective illustration.
1. The Balanced Broadsword: Sturdy, reliable, good for hacking and slashing.
Materials: 3 Iron Ores, 1 Hardwood Branch.
2. The Swift Rapier: Fast, precise, excellent for thrusts and parries.
Materials: 2 Iron Ores, 1 Hardwood Branch.
3. The Crushing Warhammer: Heavy impact, great for breaking defenses.
Materials: 5 Iron Ores, 1 Hardwood Branch.
4. The Versatile Spear: Reach advantage, good for both offense and defense.
Materials: 1 Iron Ore, 2 Longwood Branches.
5. The Flexible Whip: Long range, good for disarming and crowd control.
Materials: 1 Bull Horn, 6 Leather Straps.
6. The Dual Daggers: Quick strikes, stealth, excellent for close quarters.
Materials: 2 Iron Ores, 2 Hardwood Branches.
7. The Defensive Shield-Axe: Combines defense with offensive capability.
Materials: 2 Iron Ores, 1 Hardwood Branch, 1 Largewood Plank.
8. The Bladed Boomerang: Ranged and melee, returns to thrower.
Materials: 1 Ironwood Branch, 1 Iron Ore.
9. The Wild Nunchaku: Fast, fluid, high combo potential.
Materials: 2 Ironwood Branches, 1 Iron Ore.
10. The Grappling Hook-Sword: Mobility and close-range combat.
Materials: 2 Iron Ores, 1 Steel Vine, 1 Hardwood Branch.
11. The Heavy Scythe: Wide arcs, suited for sweeping attacks.
Materials: 2 Iron Ores, 1 Longwood Branch.
12. The Bouncing Mace: Unpredictable strikes, stunning potential.
Materials: 2 Iron Ores, 1 Rubber Core, 1 Hardwood Branch.
Nightclown scanned the list. Each weapon had its appeal. The concept of 'shapeshifting' was intriguing. Implying they could transform or adapt in some way. Though the manual didn't elaborate.
Given the nature of Toonworld, he imagined it would be quite literally 'shapeshifting' in a cartoon manner.
His eyes lingered on the nunchaku. He had always found them cool. And that was the only weapon, other than quarterstaff, he had ever learned to use. Back when he was on Earth. And learned karate in his school days.
The description 'fast, fluid, high combo potential' resonated with his quick, hare-like avatar. Plus, it just felt like a toon weapon. Fast, flashy, a bit wild.
"I'll take the nunchaku." He announced. Tapping the page with a paw.
Gorhammer grunted. "Good choice. But nunchaku requires finesse. Never thought a bunny would have it."
Nightclown ignored the jibe. "What's the cost, Sir?"
"Crafting price is the same for all basic models." Gorhammer rumbled. Pointing a thick finger at a small, almost invisible print at the bottom of the page. "Fifty coins. And, of course, the materials."
Fifty coins. Nightclown mentally checked his status panel. His initial 'wallet' had shown a hundred coins. He could use half of his money for that. That should not be a problem.
The real problem was... for now, materials. He re-read the Wild Nunchaku entry: 2 Ironwood Branches, 1 Iron Ore.
"Where do I find these 'Ironwood Branches' and 'Iron Ore'?" He asked. Trying to keep his voice level. This was quickly turning into a fetch quest.
Gorhammer scoffed. "You really are new. Ironwood's in the South Forest. Head past the forest to reach Ironwood Zone. You can't miss it. Big, gnarled trees, bark like metal. And Iron Ore? West Mine. Hard to miss, it's a giant hole in the ground with a lot of pickaxe-wielding badgers coming and going."
Nightclown sighed. A long, drawn-out, cartoonish exaggerated sigh that caused his ears to droop slightly. WHUMP! The sound effect appeared in his head.
"So..." He said. Rubbing his temples. "I need to go there. Gather materials. And then come back to you with fifty coins... to get a weapon."
Gorhammer just stared at him. A single eyebrow raised. "That's how it works, Bunny Boy. You want gear? You earn it. This ain't no charity forge. Now, you gonna stand there complaining, or you gonna get to work?"
The gorilla turned back to his anvil. Picked up his massive hammer. And with another earth-shaking CLANG!, he resumed hammering. This time a new piece of glowing metal. The message was clear.
Nightclown closed the manual. The weight of it in his hands suddenly felt heavier. Significant.
This wasn't just a world with sentient inhabitants. It was a world with a full-blown economy, resource gathering, and what amounted to a quest system.
He had thought this was just a bizarre vacation spot. A power-up zone. Instead, it was a second life within a second world. A world that demanded effort. Just like Sherra. Just like Earth. He was an avatar, sure. But the stakes felt remarkably real.
He turned and walked out of the blacksmith's shop. The creak of the door was a stark counterpoint to the CLANG! from within. The bright, cheerful Toon Forest Village seemed to have taken on a slightly more serious hue.
"Alright, Jester!" He muttered to himself. "Or Nightclown. This is definitely like an RPG now. A very, very weird RPG."
His grey hare lips curled into a determined, if slightly exasperated, grin. "South Forest first. Ironwood branches. Let's see what kind of challenges this 'Toonworld' has in store."