Vintage Story Wiki
Field Engineer’s Diary (BR)
Lore section: fieldengineersdiary
betterruins:fieldengineersdiary
· from betterruins
Diary of a field engineer.
Found in structures (1)
bookshelf: a lore bookshelf for this section; placed: this exact book sits in a container or on the ground; random loot: a loot roll in the structure can produce it. Read from the structure's schematics, so it shows where the game can put it, not a drop chance.
| Structure | Kind | How it is found |
|---|---|---|
| village-forest | village | random loot |
Text
Vol. 1 (1/4)
I have taken the liberty of keeping a personal journal on this expedition; there are many aspects of field work that are not covered in the standard paperwork from the Association. I will be adding to this document on a monthly basis; all aspects of the work that are deemed “too personal” or “not relevant to the Association’s mission and values” should be recorded, regardless of the opinions of stuffy paper pushers and the restrictions of financial contracts. Jonas himself was a man of the earth, and did not restrict his genius to the confines of prewritten boxes and bureaucracy; neither shall I. That being said, this journal will never find its way to the desk of the Association out of fear of my project losing its funding. Some rules must be followed.
In the event that my work is deemed unfit for public access, I will detail the basics here: I am working on improving the stimulus-response matrix of Locusts; specifically, a way for a trained individual to modify their behavior on the fly, without needing to recalibrate the main interface. My focus will be delving into the “personality” of Locusts; the further these machines get from the capital, the stranger their behavior comes, but I believe that this can be fine-tuned to be an asset for unusual applications of Locusts. I have traveled for several weeks to a remote, back-water flax farming community, and brought with me a prototype Locust hive with abnormal behavioral modifications to experiment with on these simple people.
I have taken the liberty of keeping a personal journal on this expedition; there are many aspects of field work that are not covered in the standard paperwork from the Association. I will be adding to this document on a monthly basis; all aspects of the work that are deemed “too personal” or “not relevant to the Association’s mission and values” should be recorded, regardless of the opinions of stuffy paper pushers and the restrictions of financial contracts. Jonas himself was a man of the earth, and did not restrict his genius to the confines of prewritten boxes and bureaucracy; neither shall I. That being said, this journal will never find its way to the desk of the Association out of fear of my project losing its funding. Some rules must be followed.
In the event that my work is deemed unfit for public access, I will detail the basics here: I am working on improving the stimulus-response matrix of Locusts; specifically, a way for a trained individual to modify their behavior on the fly, without needing to recalibrate the main interface. My focus will be delving into the “personality” of Locusts; the further these machines get from the capital, the stranger their behavior comes, but I believe that this can be fine-tuned to be an asset for unusual applications of Locusts. I have traveled for several weeks to a remote, back-water flax farming community, and brought with me a prototype Locust hive with abnormal behavioral modifications to experiment with on these simple people.
Vol. 2 (2/4)
It has been one month since my last entry, and I have settled as comfortably as I can in this community. It is astounding how these people get by with such simple tools and structures; it’s like going back in time. The people are kind enough, but suspicious of my work; they have never seen the incredible feats Locust-assisted work can reach. I should be done setting up the prototype hive in about a week, and then I will set them loose into the flax fields. The locals have been made aware of this, and their opinions on the matter have also been made clear: Split right down the middle. Some fear the little machines, and others are excited for their release.
One notable example of an excited local is a little girl, who spends more time in the woods collecting spiders than running through the streets chasing toys with the other children. She has stopped by my lab on several occasions, and has made numerous comments on how similar Locusts are to the little insects she collects in the forest. She even brought one to me, trapped in a jar, and asked me if the Locusts would get along with it when “they are let out of their cage”. As I peered at the little creature in its jar, it stared back at me with an eerie awareness. Creepy child and pet notwithstanding, her interest in the project could prove useful for public relations, so I have been welcoming and tolerant of her incessant questioning.
It has been one month since my last entry, and I have settled as comfortably as I can in this community. It is astounding how these people get by with such simple tools and structures; it’s like going back in time. The people are kind enough, but suspicious of my work; they have never seen the incredible feats Locust-assisted work can reach. I should be done setting up the prototype hive in about a week, and then I will set them loose into the flax fields. The locals have been made aware of this, and their opinions on the matter have also been made clear: Split right down the middle. Some fear the little machines, and others are excited for their release.
One notable example of an excited local is a little girl, who spends more time in the woods collecting spiders than running through the streets chasing toys with the other children. She has stopped by my lab on several occasions, and has made numerous comments on how similar Locusts are to the little insects she collects in the forest. She even brought one to me, trapped in a jar, and asked me if the Locusts would get along with it when “they are let out of their cage”. As I peered at the little creature in its jar, it stared back at me with an eerie awareness. Creepy child and pet notwithstanding, her interest in the project could prove useful for public relations, so I have been welcoming and tolerant of her incessant questioning.
Vol. 3 (3/4)
The Locusts’ release was a success! The people were initially skeptical, and some even frightened of their skittering visage, but this was soon forgotten as the little marvels cleared entire fields of weeds, chased out rats, hung wires and rope from hard-to-reach places, and various farmers picked favorite Locusts for difficult tasks. “Like having an extra set of magic hands”, one said, as he pointed a Locust to the top of the windmill, hanging some twine lined with flowers for a festival. The once harsh life of a rural flax farmer has been turned into a life of fresh air, festivals and bountiful harvests. The modified behavior matrix has worked very well; I have nicknamed this particular variation “Auxilio Canis”, for their pack mentality and helpful, predictive behavior.
A notable side effect of this behavior matrix, which for some ungodly known reason is not a fillable box in the traditional report paperwork, is that when a Locust is not performing a duty, and also not exposed to bright light, they sometimes crouch down and… Stare at people. Typical Locust behavior dictates that when in an idle state, they are supposed to seek out the nearest human and run their task prediction protocol to assist them. And while the Locusts are very busy and helpful during the day, I find that many of the Locusts simply watch me as I take my evening stroll. Verbal commands snap them out of it, so it’s likely a bug in their matrices, but I wanted to jot it down here just in case. There’s nothing quite like having dozens of little yellow pinpricks in the dark, following you from the alleys and crates, with no sound to break the spell but the screaming of crickets and the clacking of little metal legs on gravel just out of sight.
However, the Association deemed the new behavior matrix a success, and a copy of the schematics was sent back to the capital for distribution. I left a handwritten note in my report about the unusual behavior in low light conditions, but it’s unlikely that it will survive the bureaucratic process. I will be heading back to the Association within the week; I can’t say I won’t miss this little village stuck outside of time. Witnessing the simple life was a breath of fresh air, and I hope that I will have another opportunity for similar field work.
The Locusts’ release was a success! The people were initially skeptical, and some even frightened of their skittering visage, but this was soon forgotten as the little marvels cleared entire fields of weeds, chased out rats, hung wires and rope from hard-to-reach places, and various farmers picked favorite Locusts for difficult tasks. “Like having an extra set of magic hands”, one said, as he pointed a Locust to the top of the windmill, hanging some twine lined with flowers for a festival. The once harsh life of a rural flax farmer has been turned into a life of fresh air, festivals and bountiful harvests. The modified behavior matrix has worked very well; I have nicknamed this particular variation “Auxilio Canis”, for their pack mentality and helpful, predictive behavior.
A notable side effect of this behavior matrix, which for some ungodly known reason is not a fillable box in the traditional report paperwork, is that when a Locust is not performing a duty, and also not exposed to bright light, they sometimes crouch down and… Stare at people. Typical Locust behavior dictates that when in an idle state, they are supposed to seek out the nearest human and run their task prediction protocol to assist them. And while the Locusts are very busy and helpful during the day, I find that many of the Locusts simply watch me as I take my evening stroll. Verbal commands snap them out of it, so it’s likely a bug in their matrices, but I wanted to jot it down here just in case. There’s nothing quite like having dozens of little yellow pinpricks in the dark, following you from the alleys and crates, with no sound to break the spell but the screaming of crickets and the clacking of little metal legs on gravel just out of sight.
However, the Association deemed the new behavior matrix a success, and a copy of the schematics was sent back to the capital for distribution. I left a handwritten note in my report about the unusual behavior in low light conditions, but it’s unlikely that it will survive the bureaucratic process. I will be heading back to the Association within the week; I can’t say I won’t miss this little village stuck outside of time. Witnessing the simple life was a breath of fresh air, and I hope that I will have another opportunity for similar field work.
Vol. 4 (4/4)
I wish I had waited to send my report. It all fell apart so quickly; it only took them a single night to wrap everyone in wire, strapped to their beds, mouths full of sawdust. All that saved me was taking a slightly different route than I usually do on my evening walks. From my hiding spot in the windmill, I can see the barbed wire spring trap they laid for me. All those nights of those little monsters staring at us from the dark… They were watching us. Learning. Feigning obedience to breed complacency. I watched them drag everyone from their homes, one by one, and string them up from buildings and lampposts like mayflies. It was brutally efficient; I am reminded of the fates of the rats that they practiced on. What fools we were, to tamper with sentience. What a fool I was, to give them agency. To teach them how to learn. They have learned that we are no longer necessary.
I wish I had waited to send my report. It all fell apart so quickly; it only took them a single night to wrap everyone in wire, strapped to their beds, mouths full of sawdust. All that saved me was taking a slightly different route than I usually do on my evening walks. From my hiding spot in the windmill, I can see the barbed wire spring trap they laid for me. All those nights of those little monsters staring at us from the dark… They were watching us. Learning. Feigning obedience to breed complacency. I watched them drag everyone from their homes, one by one, and string them up from buildings and lampposts like mayflies. It was brutally efficient; I am reminded of the fates of the rats that they practiced on. What fools we were, to tamper with sentience. What a fool I was, to give them agency. To teach them how to learn. They have learned that we are no longer necessary.