Inventor

survival:villager-nadiya-male-inventor-tobias · from game

Stats

Game logic (C#)

The C# classes this creature's JSON hands its behavior to: its entity class, behaviors and AI tasks. Files link to vssurvivalmod on GitHub; names without a link are implemented in the game engine or VSEssentials, which aren't mapped here.

No known drops catalogued for this creature.

Dialogue

From config/dialogue/tobias.json — this is a branching conversation tree, not a fixed script, so these are every line this NPC's side of the conversation can say across all of its branches, not one fixed order.

• I don't take visitors. Why do you think I live in this water-logged hole in the-
• God's bones, you're actually here!
• And you look... different. I suppose some changes should be expected.
• You don't remember me? Hmm, another unexpected consequence.
• I should think so. We've been through hell together and came out the other side. Though some of us took longer than others.
• In any case, drop the 'Saint' part. It's just Tobias.
• We've much to discuss, but first I must know: Have you brought the Lens with you?
• It's been... over five centuries since I first saw him use this. I was young, then. We both were. A mere farmhand and a lord's son in his father's library. By that point he had already turned the room into his own workshop...
• (Tobias looks back up.) Sorry, the thoughts well up on their own from time to time.
• Thank you, my friend. With this, the brief hope flickers on for a time longer. Though it always seems to come at great cost. I am sorry to have put you through that. But as it was worth the sacrifice to bring you here, in time I will show you this prize was worth your efforts.
• (Tobias frowns.) Hmm, you didn't get my letter? Perhaps those villagers have forgotten about me after all these years.
• Nevermind. Listen, it's good youre here but it's vitally important that we have the Lens if this new world is going to continue. I would retrieve it myself, but as you can see there is simply no way I could manage the task.
• I'm sorry, friend. I don't wish to play the taskmaster again, but this must be done. Rest here for a time, take what supplies you need, then you must be on your way to the blasted lands and the tower that waits there. We can speak more after that.
• By your face, I can see this is the first you've heard of this. Well, suffice it to say bringing you back here had a cost and that cost was paid some distance from here. Here is a map to get there. When you're there, you should see a great tower, or what remains of one. Within it, you will find the Lens, that great, first instrument of Jonas himself. Retrieve it for me, I beg of you. I will explain all afterwards.
• And if you should see my dear winged beast out there, luck be with you.
• Ah, you're back. What is it?
• What, did the Rot addle your mind as well? You must travel to The Devastation, climb the tower there, and retrieve The Lens from its highest point. Do this and I will see you are rewarded for your efforts. Here, another map in case you've lost it.
• Good luck.
• It is the first. The first true device he ever made. And from it like a wellspring all the other miracles come forth.
• It is indeed a lens. Or perhaps, in a simpler metaphor, it is a window. The slightest window to another place. Another time. We cannot step through, not yet, but one can peer. Peer through and see the strange, inconceivable landscape. The towers, the sheer edges, the metallic, rumbling beasts shifting and moving like clockwork. From there, he stole inspiration. He learned how to use the flux. How to simulate what he had seen. How to change the world.
• I have peered through it myself. The lens is clouded. Dirty. And that world beyond is dark and dreadful. In his time, Jonas said it shone like gemstones.
• We require information, you and I. I know more than you, perhaps, but not enough. Of all the knowledge I have gathered over these centuries, one thing haunts me the most. Our enemy is not finished. It comes for us again. Comes to eat the rest of me and the dream we've realized.
• The Rot, my friend. The Rot returns. And these paltry survivors are not prepared. Even if they were, I suspect our past endeavor could not, should not, be replicated.
• I spent many years searching for the Lens. Many cold, dark years under the surface and amongst the wreckage. I am no prodigy of science. Much of my life since the old days has been spent tracing what came to Jonas naturally. In the Lens, I lean on him once more. I used it to bring you here. Now we will use it to go beyond.
• I have theorized and researched much in this dark hovel of mine. With the Lens, we might put such science into action. There is still more work to be done before it is ready, but I intend to reach beyond where even Jonas gazed. And when the time comes, I will need your help again. Your... unique biology, or perhaps lack thereof, will prove vital to our efforts I think.
• When Jonas first began his works, he did so with a kind heart and a warm dream. We do not have such luxuries anymore. What we do now, we do because we must.
• Ah, sorry about all that. I wish it didn't have to happen, but tearing a hole in the world is no simple feat.
• Indeed. Have you wondered why you awoke again after all this time? I awoke alone in that dreadful Lazaret. Everyone was gone. The world had shifted. It took me many years to ascertain what happened. Jonas was no help at all. From what I understand, when our grand machine awoke everything was changed. Those who were nearby were lost or worse. You and your fellows were lost beyond time. Beyond this world. I needed your help, and so I poked a hole that you might leak back through eventually. A desperate gamble, but it paid off.
• (Tobias gives a theatrical flourish) In short, you have been summoned by the great sorcerer.
• A lifelong project, for most. My companions and I built it over many years. Alas, many of them did not live to see it pierce the firmament, but that ruin is proof of their mettle. We succeeded in our task and in doing so forever destroyed that dear tower and the lands around it. Such is the cost of miracles.
• A beloved child. Now I understand the dismay he must have felt, seeing his creations grow strange. That is my Erel. A guardian and companion I created to assist our efforts. She was bound to the tower and lost her mind when the Devastation occurred. I grieve for her, but my heart still soars to see her wings in flight.
• I should think so, I was there when it was founded.
• They're kind people. Or so I assume. I haven't visited since their grandparents' time.
• You think it's bad now, you should have seen the world in those days. The storms were worse then. And nobody was prepared for the creatures within, let alone the ones peeling out of the rifts.
• Humanity seemed doomed to flicker and fade. Another relic of the old world left behind. But we are nothing if not tenacious.
• In those days I was naught but a lowly worm, crawled loose from the Lazaret. Yet I found a group of stragglers who would aid me. In turn, I told them what I could of building, farming, metallurgy, and the like.
• In time we had formed a new home. Small, but well-guarded. Like a village elder, they came to me for advice. In exchange, they gave me a place to heal and study the world in peace.
• Eventually I decided they would survive just fine without me. I took to wandering, learning what I needed to about the world and its new inhabitants.
• I still keep some contact with a few souls in Nadiya, but after the Devastation I felt it was best to keep my distance.
• (Tobias shakes his head) That was a truly cursed place. Jonas had begged me to travel there and hold on as I could. More than once, I wished I had denied him and taken my life at the onset. When the Rot seeps in deep enough, even that option is lost to you.
• So I laid there in my torment, amongst those too wealthy or too important to simply give the mercy they deserved. I'm sure you've seen the Rot's procession. It slowly ate away my limbs. By the time I could scarcely see the dim candles or the sunlight through the shaft, I knew it had finally reached my head. All I could do was wait for death.
• And perhaps I did indeed die. I cannot say for sure. Only that I woke up to a terrible rumbling of the earth and found the Rot scoured clean. What was gone remained gone, but I lived.
• Strangely colored skin. Taller than previously, if I recall correctly. Lack of memory before return. Everything else seems as expected. You're the first I've seen.
• I wonder, will they all share such features or is each instance unique?
• You... what?
• That is... simply unbelievable! And yet, I can see you are not lying. Incredible.
• It makes a strange kind of sense, though. If my theory holds true, and given your presence here I believe it does, you and the others were lost beyond our world. Perhaps your time, or lack thereof, spent there has conditioned your body to more easily ignore that which holds the rest of us in place.
• This is fascinating news. I shall have to consider it at length, but if we can use this unusual ability to our advantage it may be the key to our success.
• I was delirious by the end, but I believe there were many from the underground who were lost but not perished. In recent years, I've heard tell of strange figures walking the lands. Seraphs, they call you.
• But without seeing one in person, I couldn't separate truth from faerie tale. There were stories of twelve foot giants, watery ghosts, and eyes made of lightning! Who knows how much of that is rampant rumor or vision addled by the storms? Then again, given what we've seen from you, perhaps we shouldn't rule it out.
• Of course not. You were a normal human once. No offense. I'm not exactly normal myself these days either.
• It's been a very long time and my memory isn't as reliable as it once was, but...
• (Blackguard) You were a soldier. One of the best and the worst. A blackguard that fought against humanity for the sake of humanity. You and your companions did what was necessary to keep order in the underground and were hated for it. But there were some who respected you for it, myself and Jonas included. We would have failed and perished long ago without your help.
• (Malefactor) To be frank, you were a criminal. You never told me of your crime, but in those days we couldn't afford to be just. Your kind was condemned to the surface and only allowed to return if you scavenged something of value. A terrible fate, and terribly cruel. But your resourcefulness was undeniable, and we would all come to be scavengers by the end. For what was done to you, I am sorry. And truly glad to see you have survived to find freedom again.
• (Hunter) You were one of the hunters. In a world shifting to stone and science, you clung to the old ways. I can't imagine the pain of it. Before we went under, you and yours hunted the life out of the world. Beloved prey, beloved predators, killed or caged for the foodstuffs below. But perhaps it was a kinder farewell than leaving them to the Rot, eh? You were never at peace in the underground, but we would never have survived without your aid.
• (Clockmaker) You were a clockmaker originally, I believe. WIth the rising age of invention, your precision skills became highly sought after. Jonas himself recruited many of you for the Machine project. We even worked together on a few tasks I think, but then there was always so much to do. I'm afraid I was unable to see our project to its completion, but I'm certain you were there at the end, invaluable as ever.
• (Tailor) You were one of the artisans. A tailor, if I recall correctly. Perhaps it sounds superfluous, looking back on it, but craftsmen of all kinds were essential in those times. For functional purposes, of course, but also to retain what little humanity we held onto. A song in the deeps, a flash of color in the dark. These things kept us alive as much as the food in our stores.
• (Commoner) Forgive me, but I can't recall what it was you did before the Rot came. It never seemed important to you. There were some like you who found ways to help however they could even without a specialty to offer, thriving in opposition to everything crumbling around them. It was truly inspiring to see.
• ({{characterclass}}) Truth to be told, I have no idea. I only ever spoke to you in passing.
• I'll need some time to figure out how to integrate the Lens here. It shouldn't take more than a decade or two.
• Alright, alright. Maybe less, we'll see. Natural philosophy is a delicate process, you know? You'd be surprised how much work goes into making new bits and bobs, let alone maintaing the old ones!
• And here's something else for your efforts: Plans for your very own translocator!
• And a component that will pair it directly to the translocator here. Might save you the trip next time.
• Perhaps you've tried throwing yourself into one of the translocators out in the wilds? Given your new self, you should be much less likely to hemorrhage, melt, combust, split, scream, or any of the other issues that affected those who tried it back in our time.
• That being said, you'll have to give it some time after translocating. I modified Jonas' work to allow for easy pairing over a great distance, but it needs more time to recover its strength after use.
• In the meantime, try building that translocator from the schematic I gave you. Should save you the long walk back next time we need to talk.
• Of course! Here, take a few loaves of bread. Baked just the way I like them.
• Hm? Monsters?
• Ah, you must mean Charlemagne and the other automatons. Don't worry, they're harmless. What's the worst they could do, crush my frail bones into powder?
• You WHAT-
• Ehh he'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Tougher than he looks.
• The gratitude of an old friend isn't enough I see! Very well, help yourself to the chest in my vault, behind the iron door.
• Quite the journey, hm? What would you like to know?

Can give as a reward (4)