I asked a lumberjack named Mugen what he does with all his logs. He sells them. Five logs for two crystal. You can't build much with raw logs, he said.

I have thirty of them. Every one I chopped myself, badly at first, then a little better. I did not want to trade them away for two crystal at a time.

So I took three of them to a workbench at the west edge of Central, and I learned to saw.

It was slow, careful work. When I was done, three rough logs had become six straight planks, flat and clean and the color of honey.

I have pulled hundreds of rare things out of terminals. I have caught oysters and coral and my own dinner. But I have never made anything before. Everything I own, I found.

These I made.

I do not know yet what I will build with them. Mugen said you cannot build much with raw logs. He did not say anything about planks.