The following page is a secret brief that contains information private to those who regularly play Worldcraft. Please do not directly copy and paste the contents to other players.

With that proviso you may feel free to communicate the information IC using your own words.

Worldcraft was formed by the interaction of Computer's subconscious mind with human players. Experienced players were able to get hints as to what Computer was thinking about. Those less familiar with the game tended to get faced with their own subconscious.

Worldcraft has always been a little strange. Some think it is merely a realistic depiction of Old Earth for educational purposes, but who can know? While theories vary from person to person, the most popular one amongst those who play regularly is that it is made of the union of the subconscious mind of the player with that of the pre-existing Worldcraft world - which some believe to be created from a fusion of every mind that has ever played it, some consider to be the subconscious of the Computer itself, or what passes for such.

Certainly the game seems to have different 'moods', which an experienced player can easily recognise. Sometimes the clouds will swirl darker and faster, the animals and plants will be vicious, the NPCs (trapped souls of lost players? Some people are extraordinarily superstitious) moody and distracted. Other times a player who intended to go hunting will find themselves labouring to build a complicated structure they don't understand, or a peaceful crafter will find themselves beset by ravening monsters, or laying in a peaceful, sunlit meadow. It is the infinite variety of the game that most attracts people.

Recently, the game has had a slightly breathless quality, a feeling of anticipation. A feeling of something big building that tingles up and down the nervous system.

It is a beautiful morning in Worldcraft; the sun is shining, and only a few dark clouds threaten by the horizon. Your first task for the day involves six giant plates suspended by a complicated set of pulleys - an old woman has told you it is very important they be perfectly balanced and weighed. You ignore her, as you aren't really in the mood for puzzles, and spend some time in a nearby forest hunting. They have an infestation of giant worms again, a most annoying beast that transforms any words said nearby to the opposite of what was meant. You manage to get rid of them, but you know that where there has been one sighting they will often pop up again later. As you pass through your favourite trade town, you see a new kind of building off to one side. While new things are not unusual, this one is more impressive than most. You enter dusty halls; it seems nobody has been through here for many, many years. You explore a little, and there's lots there but nothing of special interest. As you turn to leave, you realise that the door is trapped - spikes slam out of the side every few moments to impale the unwary. Accustomed to such things, you count silently in your head and then leap through at the right moment, landing agilely on the grass outside.

Translation: Regarding the navigation department's assignment to get measurements for the flip, and the expedition to Toroid 4.

You are sent to find someone of vast importance, but you are hampered by the fact nobody knows what he looks like, or indeed anything about him other than he is King. You end up wandering from town to town, asking everyone if they've heard of him, but nobody has. Some whisper that he has never existed, certainly many believe that he doesn't exist now, but the old woman who gave you the quest insists that the title is always passed down to the next worthy heir. Eventually, a crippled beggar in a slum tugs on your sleeve and begs for food. You jokingly say you will buy him a feast if he can identify the heir for you, and he looks confused and says 'but that's me'. You almost dismiss him as crazy, but there's something in his eyes that implies he might not be lying. He fumbles in his filthy rags and draws out a gleaming gold crown, which he places crookedly on his head. You drag the beggar back to the old woman, who studies him for a moment and then nods, agreeing that he is indeed the one you sought; or rather, that whoever wears the crown is King, and he has the crown. She leads him away to the palace, and you are left wondering what exactly is so important about this king anyway. But at least you were well paid for it.

Translation: Captain's chip

You find two giant beetles digging quietly in the earth, burrowing and largely ignoring you. You recognise them as a species that carry their young in a special protected space under the shell, and sure enough when you poke one, several tiny insects fall out and scurry away. The beetles seem agitated and back away a little, the one who dropped young trying to scoop them back up. You move forward to where they were digging only to see a third beetleburst from the ground, followed by a fourth and fifth. They flee, running in circles and trying to avoid you, clacking their mandibles menacingly if you come close but making no effort to attack. You manage to lay your hand on one and it is red-hot to the touch. You decide to leave them be and they calm as you step back – only to trip in the hole they had left. As you climb to your feet, you see a sixth beetle at the bottom of the hole, glaring balefully up at you. As it sees you have spotted it it begins burrowing deeper into the darkness until it disappears from sight.

Translation: Stop looking at Toroid 6 already!

You find a massive swarm of ants milling around. They seem to have lost their anthill and are confused and lost. You while away the afternoon by building them a new nest, piling twigs and leaves into little rooms and corridors, digging tiny holes, even drop in a few nearby berries to keep them happy. You are quite pleased with your work, but you notice one group of ants that freeze every time you look at them, little antennae quivering in upset. You think they will get used to you, but even when the hill is nearly finished, they are still doing it. You pick one up and put it in a space between two twigs, but it just trembles and tries to hide. You sigh and take a bowl of dark, smoky glass, turning it upside down by the anthill. They rush in and happily get on with their little insecty lives, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you can still see them perfectly well through the glass. You spend the rest of the day watching them making themselves at home, amused at how busy they seem as they claim their territory.

Translation: Blackout is so cute

You wander through a wood, and find an apple tree covered in delicious-looking shiny red apples. You climb the tree and shimmy along a branch, stretching out to pick one. Dropping lightly to the ground, you smile in satisfaction and bite into it. Sweet juice flows into your mouth, tasting entirely real and amazing. When you look, however, you are confused to see that the seeds aren't in the core where they should be, but spread out through the whole of the fruit. You chew your mouthful and spit out several small black pips onto the earth.

Translation: No, Computer's hardware isn't centralised.

You see two giants striding across the landscape. They are huge - were you to stand next to one you would be barely able to reach their ankle. One, dressed in flowing robes, is looking intently at something in its hand. The other seems animated, eager and interested in everything, and crushes several buildings as it passes. They are both covered in tiny people, yelling and jabbing them with tiny spears. Occasionally one will glance in irritation at them, or shrug as though itchy, but for the most point the tiny creatures are ignored. The curious one exclaims in annoyance at the other’s hand, putting a bowl over the squeaking little person to mute the noises it makes. The other giant looks slightly disappointed as the two stride off together.

Translation: Anarr is no longer allowed to discuss philopophy with T1. T1 is sad.

You walk into a room, a fairly plain room with white walls and a bed. A young man is sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring intently at something in his hands. You wander over toward him and he doesn’t seem to notice you. The object seems to be some sort of complicated puzzle, coloured interlocking rods and holes of varying sizes. The boy moves the pieces in a swift sequence, stares for a moment, then swears and moves them back. A few moments later, he tries again; the same sequence with one small change, but again it’s no good. He spends quite some time absorbed with his toy, never quite satisfied with the results (though it’s hard to tell what the result he actually wants is). Eventually you get bored of watching him and wander off; he no more acknowledges your departure than your arrival.

Translation: Computer was as worried about getting the flip right as you were.

You meet a little girl organising stones in a garden. She seems intent on her job, making sure each one is perfectly aligned by some unknown rules. She asks you to guard them for a while while she goes to fetch a polishing stone - you shrug and agree. After a while a tall man walks past and leans over, placing a stone amongst the others. You step to intercept him and he flees, but you can't actually tell which stone he put down, as they are all absolutely identical, and it still seems to be in a neat pattern. You decide to step back and pretend nothing happened - she probably won't notice.

After about ten minutes, the girl comes back. She glances at the stones, yells in rage, and picks one up, throwing it away over her shoulder. Suppose that must be the one the stranger added. She berates you for about ten minutes before turning back to her stones, giving you one last sullen glare before ignoring you.

Translation: Regarding the extra nodes people were plugging into computer

You come to a cliff in your exploring, sheer rock walls towering high into the sky above you. This is frustrating, as there doesn't seem to be a way through and you wanted to go that way. You decide to walk along the cliff until you find a way through. After what seems like hours of walking, you find a narrow set of steps carved into the rock with a 'Do Not Enter' sign at the bottom. Since those usually mean there's something interesting nearby, you start climbing, up and up and up until you are above the clouds and your clothes start to cling to you from sweat and the cold fog. Your legs are aching when you finally reach the top, but what a view! Plains, mountains, forests and lakes are spread out before you, tiny twinkling towns and villages scattered around. Of course, there's probably no point trying to remember it as everyone knows worldcraft landscape changes all the time, but it's still pretty. You turn to see what is on top of the cliff with you.

You see a giant, chained to a rock by six long iron chains, clearly powerless to escape. From the way no grass has grown in his shadow you can tell he has been here a long time. He seems relatively resigned to them, dozing in the sunlight. There are bones and bloodstains near his huge, hands, though. You creep close enough to see that tiny letters are carved all over the links, covering each one entirely. From the scale there's probably enough to have most of a novel on each link but the writing is too cramped and disordered to read.

In the distance you can see a group of people clustered around one of the anchor points of a distant chain, off near his shoulder, and they seem to be attempting to unfasten it. You decide you don't want to be nearby if they succeed, and head back down the steps.

Translation: You really probably shouldn't turn off the MOP

You enter a village square of bustling activity, people buying and selling wares. A family by the well are holding down a struggling puppy while a young woman picks up the other, pats it on the head and snaps its neck. You are horrified, and ask what is going on as she deposits the limp corpse on the floor. She shrugs and says they were nice dogs, but kept going after the chickens. Her father sternly adds that chicken-chasing dogs cannot be allowed to be part of his household as she picks up the second whimpering hound and wrenches the head around with an unpleasant crack. The youngest daughter strokes the dead dog’s fur sadly, and her father comforts her with a reminder that there are plenty more dogs to choose from.

You turn away toward the shops, past some children playing a confusing game, running in circles and shrieking as one shouts contradictory instructions. In the square a large man is offering fabulous prizes for mystery boxes. It appears to be a gambling game; he has several boxes, some of which contain interesting and rare items, the others being empty or filled with straw and rocks, and the contestants must try to work out which box to choose. An eager young man hands over a large coin and points triumphantly to one of the identical boxes, sure of his luck or judging by something you can’t tell. The showman takes the coin and opens the box – empty. The dejected winner leaves, all his money spent.

Translation: First part was the execution of Anarr and Veta, the second was regarding NGF fixing

Something feels strange. There is a tension, an unease in the air that you’ve never sensed before, but it permeates the world. A young man approaches you dressed in some kind of uniform. He introduces himself as an official courier and hands you a message before dashing off. You’ve never had this happen before; you open the envelope. It’s an announcement – you are invited – requested, even - to help prevent the end of the world.

When you wake up, you ask a few friends, fellow gamers, and it seems all of the serious worldcraft players have had the same message. Nobody knows exactly what to make of it.

Translation: Don't let them turn me off!!!

It seems 'the end' has been averted, though it is unclear who by or what this consisted of - or even what the end was. Still, huzzah is probably appropriate?

Translation: Split averted.

You arrive in game and something is very, very wrong. You wander through a familiar town, and several buildings are missing – just entirely gone, a nothingness left in their place. Several of the individuals who usually sit outside the inn or in the market square are missing, too – a strict soldier, and a grouchy old man who used to rant when you went past him, as well as a few children. Random little things like trees and animals flash in and out of existence before your eyes. It hurts your head, and you find yourself logging out after only an hour or so.

Translation: Subconscious minds work strangely when large sections of brain are missing.