The Newt and Demon

Tresk grumbled about the rain in Theo’s mind. When questioned about the matter—she had always claimed to love the rain—she brushed it off. The [Drogramath Still] sputtered the last of its essence into a flask, a small run to test the properties of the [Growth Essence]. He’d already separated out the smallest amount of farm dirt, dropping a fraction of a unit of the essence on top. The explosion that resulted was sizable, especially considering the tight confines of the lab.

After removing the soot from his face, Theo approached the pile of dirt. Azrug didn’t even come up to check on the alchemist, too used to the random explosions from within the building. An experimentation room would be helpful, ‌but there was no sense in worrying about it now. There was something inside the dirt which reacted with the growth essence, which led him to the conclusion that it needed to be refined‌. The only example he had of essence refinement for large-scale applications was Perg’s tannery solutions, but his intuition told him it wouldn’t work.

Unsurprisingly, Basic Drogramath Alchemy didn’t hold any answers for farming applications. There was a section related to “elemental separations”, but he couldn’t read it yet. Theo reserved himself to studying the reagents themselves, namely the intact [Water Lily] that sat on his table. He moved in, almost pressing his nose against the plant to take in its scent, scanning across the dark green leaves and bright blue flowers. There was something in there that he couldn’t understand lurking beneath the surface. He turned his attention to the pile of dirt.

With the farm dirt, he found a similar sensation. He concluded it was the contaminants, or rather the things that made the Zee grow. Tiny things that felt like properties in his mind, but not exactly that. He made a mental note. These were the elemental parts of all things. A realization struck him, a thought that he had before. Everything consisted of small amounts of stuff. He wasn’t smart enough to know the science of it, but he knew that much from his time on Earth. The idea of extracting salt from salt-laden resources wasn’t so far-fetched anymore.

Theo left the Newt and Demon, intending to walk through the rain and collect reagents. He inspected everything as he went, getting close to the trees that grew behind the lab and taking in their small properties. He was sure there was a proper word for it, but he couldn’t think of what to call them. Everything had a distinct flavor in his mind. Trees were wet and rigid, whereas the dirt was teeming with something alive. The reagents that sprouted from the ground were entirely different, having a sort of electricity within them.

“Magic,” Theo said, plucking a [Spiny Swamp Thistle] from the ground. “They’ve got a bunch of magic in them.”

It wasn’t much of a leap to assume that the alchemy reagents were made of magic, or at least had enough suffused through the plant matter to be noticeable. Hours passed with the alchemist stooping low to inspect plants, appreciating their properties. He gathered whole plants, instead of the useful parts for distillation. They fit in his inventory nicely, stacking the same way ingredients did. The rain let up for a moment and a window startled Theo.

[Drogramath Herbalism Core] receivedexperience (1%).

[Drogramath Herbalism Core] leveled up! Level 10.

[Drogramath Herbalism Core] gained an additional skill slot!

[Drogramath Herbalism Core] gained an enhanced effect: +3 intelligence.

[Theo Spencer] leveled up! Level 10.

[Theo Spencer] received one free point.

[Theo Spencer] received one free skill point.

Theo collapsed to his knees, drawing a ragged gasp as a rush of power flooded through his body. He waited there for a long while, fearful of Drogramath’s attention. But it never came. Unlike the [Drogramath Alchemy Core], the [Drogramath Herbalism Core] didn’t draw the entity’s ire. He rose to his feet, brushing the caked mud from his knees and grinning to himself. He spent his free attribute point on [Intelligence], bringing him to 14, although he didn’t feel noticeably smarter. The alchemist started the walk back to his lab, rummaging through the short list of [Drogramath Herbalism] skills. One stood out over everything else. He’d leave his other free skill point for later.

[Drogramath Fermentation]

Herbalism Skill

Epic

Drogramath was fond of fermentation. Not only for the brewing of alcohol but also the strange effect it has on reagents.

Effect:

Fermentations you perform happen rapidly, compared to those without this skill.

Allows the modification of reagents to produce special modifier essences.

+1 Intelligence

The increase in intelligence was nice, but this would provide him with another way to experiment with new potions. He didn’t know what “modifier essences” were, but he was certain that he wanted them. Theo bought the skill, equipping it in his herbalism core. A rush of knowledge filled his mind, sitting right on the edge. Like most information provided by his cores, it was just a whisper. The faint voice was a guide, not a solution.

Azrug greeted him as he entered, watching as Theo dropped some [Cleansing Scrub] on his head, and allowing him to retreat upstairs with little fuss. The alchemist plopped down in front of his copy of Basic Drogramath Alchemy and flicked through the pages. Something told him the book would contain all the information he needed. He was right. There was an extensive section on fermentation and the effects of the modifier essences. This part of the book once read like a series of choppy essays about nonsense, but now it was as clear as day.

The author was still vague in places, but it was enough to get started. Modifier essences weren’t traditional essences. An alchemist couldn’t make potions from them, only apply them to existing potions. This form of the art was a delicate balance between effect and over reaction. He could create a modifier essence that would make a potion turn into smoke when the glassware was broken, blanketing an area with the effect of the potion. The important part was, this effect was at full strength for everyone who inhaled it.

The list of modifiers went on. A note from the author informed Theo that these were only a few of the effects he could produce, theorizing that there was no limit. There was a modifier that would turn his potions over a heal-over-time, or damage-over-time version without the need to find the specific essence. He could invert the effect of any potion, create area-of-effect potions, or even change the nature of the potion entirely. The section on nature-swapping potions was interesting. As Theo understood it, there were two kinds of potions. There could be more, but he knew of the drinkable kind, and the pour-over kind. The book detailed more natures.

Then there was the combination of modifiers. Theo was thankful that the book detailed this, as it was a dangerous practice. The example it gave was the combination of an area-of-effect modifier, and a monster identification modifier. An alchemist could toss a poison potion at their feet, a potion containing the area-of-effect modifier and the monster identification modifier, and only hit enemies. There were even details on how to apply two modifiers.

It was too much information to take in at once. Theo reeled from the sudden influx, reclining back in his chair to process everything. He was certain that no practicing alchemist in Qavell, perhaps all of Iaredin, could make an area-of-effect potion, let alone the others. The discovery was the single biggest thing he’d learned from the book, and he praised Fenian’s name once again. The Elf didn’t know what he had on his hands when he gave it up.

Theo thought for a moment, taking his new mantra to heart, about using the trader’s crystal to ask him about the new discovery. Fenian could be trusted. The alchemist already gave him too many secrets for a betrayal to be on the horizon. They were even locked in an exclusivity contract. He withdrew the communication crystal from his inventory and squeezed it tight.

Theo! Fenian shouted into his mind. Are you finally through that barrier?

I am, Theo said, unable to suppress his smile. How are you doing, old friend?

Old friend? My, what a great compliment. I like you more every day, dear Dronon, Fenian said, his lilting voice practically swooning. I’m doing extremely well. There’s a lot of profit to be made with the current situation.

Theo didn’t want to know what the current situation was. He wanted to distance his mind from the war that raged in the north as much as he could.

I’m finally deciphering the book you gave me, Theo said. It has a lot of weird references but something stuck out. Have you ever heard of an area-of-effect potion?

Like a fire bomb? Fenian asked.

More like an area-of-effect healing potion that only heals your friends, Theo said.

Fenian blustered into his mind. Can you make that? I’ll pay an absolute fortune for that—brew me some and you can buy an island somewhere warm.

I appreciate it, but have you heard about it? Theo asked.

Never. Not in a century of trading. I’m friends with the Master Alchemists in Qavell—from two separate guilds—and I’ve never heard of it, Fenian said. Oh, I’m practically giddy. This is one investment that’s going to pay off!

Don’t get too excited, Theo said. We’re a long way off from there. It’s a note in the book, nothing to set in stone.

While that was a lie, it was purposeful. Fenian wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d crafted a thousand such potions. It was better to temper his expectations.

Well, if I know you, you’ll figure it out. Let me know if you need any supplies for this new enterprise. Let me tell you about my demonic Karatans, Theo. They’re absolutely splendid. I’m making a small fortune simply running supplies for the kingdom.

I remember them. They were scary. And fast, Theo said.

Like you wouldn’t believe, Fenian said. So, while the roads are mostly blocked I can get anywhere I want. I simply order my little Galflower to leap over those crazed cultists, and we soar through the air. Hah! You’ve seen nothing like that, I promise you.

Galflower?

That’s what I named my lead Karatan, Fenian said.

Of course, Theo said. I’m going to get to work on this. Let me know if your situation changes.

Absolutely! By the many teets of Balkor I am excited! I’ll talk to you later, my little Demon. Galflower! Don’t eat that! Fenian said. I’m cutting the connection, my sweet, precious Galflower is eating my hats.

The connection cut suddenly, but Theo was glad for it. He wished his memory wasn’t so sharp. Perhaps, then he could forget what he heard. Crazed Cultists in the northlands. That would be the blockage on the roads. The pieces connected quicker than normal, aided by the alchemist’s newly boosted [Intelligence]. He focused his mind on the important bit of information. No one was making area-of-effect potions. It was an ability exclusive to Drogramath’s brand of alchemy, and something he would exploit for the sake of Broken Tusk.

Theo relayed the information to Tresk. She seemed excited about it, but tepid because of her patrol duty. She was like that, sometimes. He made sure she knew not to relay the information to anyone, under any circumstances. Now that the information settled in, he went over the information in the book again. The method for fermentation was fairly simple, but there was a catch. To discover modifier properties, he needed to ferment the reagents and inspect them. He couldn’t simply eat something to discover the modifier properties.

Fortunately, the process of fermentation was easier than that of Earth’s version. He needed a few things, some he couldn’t get on his own, but it wasn’t bad. Magically infused wood, which he had access to thanks to the Ogre Cypress, and a supply of motes. The book detailed the process. Create a barrel made of magical wood, place the reagents inside with at least 1 mote—the mote would change the reaction—and let it sit for at least a day. It was mercifully straightforward.

Theo was glad he brought both cores up to 10 near the same time. The pressure process from his alchemy core would no doubt pair well with the fermentation process from his herbalism core. The only issue was sourcing the barrels, which could be done from the town’s woodworker. He knew nothing about the elusive person, but he had a habit of making good impressions. He stood, leaving his book for another time.

Downstairs, Azrug was haggling with an adventurer. The man on the other side of the counter was a broad man covered in a thick layer of banded brown fur. Unlike the cat people he’d seen in the past, this man’s facial features resembled something closer to a bear. Despite the man’s ferocious appearance, the shopkeeper was talking him into paying the most for a set of healing potions.

“You’re shrewd,” the man said, something like a scowl playing across his muzzled face.

Theo noted the deep scars that ran valleys through the man’s fur. The curious thing about the adventurer was, he wore barely anything in the way of armor. A simple skirt protected his modesty, likely for the sake of others, but he was otherwise unclothed. He produced the coin, despite his objections.

“Your shopkeep runs a tight ship,” the man said. “Name’s Boral.”

“Theo, thank you for your business,” Theo said. “We don’t get many of your kin down here in the southlands.”

“No, I don’t imagine you would. Far too hot,” Boral said. “Alas, the allure of the dungeons is too great.”

“Indeed. Care to tell me about your people?” Theo asked, always hungry for more information of those outside of Broken Tusk.

Boral raised a furry eyebrow, leaning over the counter as he collected his potions. “You’re a curious one. Qavell knows us as the Toora, although that name is spoken with venom in the capital. In truth, we are wanderers. Nomads of the Gora Sat, World Spine as they call it. Mountains as far as the eye can see. Snow.”

Boral let out a deep groan, rumbling through the shop.

“Homesick?” Azrug said, smiling.

“Absolutely. I’m exiled, but that’s our way. When I return to the mountain with treasure, they’ll accept me again,” Boral said.

“You’re an adventurer,” Theo said, gesturing to the man’s attire. “I usually see adventurers in more armor. Is that a cultural thing?”

“Hardly,” Boral said. “The only reason I can stand this swamp is my cores. [Barbarian] and [Pugilist] grant me not only the ability to fight without armor but also without weapons.”

“Now that’s a very interesting combination,” Theo said, nodding to himself. “Well, while you’re in town let us know if you need anything else. Lodging is available at the Marsh Wolf Tavern. Try the soup.”

“I already found my room,” Boral said, shrugging his massive shoulders. “But this soup you speak of is not good.”

“I’m afraid Xam might be slipping,” Azrug said sheepishly. “My sister runs the tavern, but I won’t take offense. At least the beds are nice.”

“The beds are lovely,” Boral said. “I’ll kill and eat my food tonight.”

“Stop by the adventurer’s guild, if you like. Aarok could always use muscle,” Theo said.

“I don’t trust the adventurer’s guild,” Boral said with a scowl.

“Good news, ours is independent,” Theo said. “We hold no affiliation with the wider adventurer’s guilds in the kingdom.”

Boral brightened up, his massive shoulders straightening. “Is that so? I’ve never heard of an independent adventurer’s guild.”

“Only the finest here in Broken Tusk,” Azrug said.

“Well, I’m off,” Boral said, turning and leaving without another word. The bell rang behind him, tinkling for a little longer than normal.

“I’ve never seen a Toora,” Azrug said.

“I’d imagine there’s a lot either of us have never seen,” Theo said. “Who is managing the housing project?”

“Ah, I think I’m supposed to ask you about that,” Azrug said, knitting his brows. “Xam is managing the project, but she’s just directing the laborers for the demolition. She wants you to take a look, make sure everything looks good.”

“Well, it’s a good chance to meet the carpenter,” Theo said.

“You haven’t met Sledge?” Azrug said, laughing. “That’s a shock.”

“Sledge? No, I’ve seen the name on my mayor screen, though,” Theo said.

“Oh, you’re going to like her,” Azrug said. “Real fiery person, that one.”

Theo nodded, bidding farewell to the shop once again. He was intent on both meeting the carpenter, woodworker, whatever they liked to be called, and check on the housing project. He handed enough house seed cores over to give everyone a place to stay. They’d be in far better conditions once they were all planted, no longer hunkering under leaky roofs and rotten walls.

The alchemist approached the area north of the Marsh Wolf Tavern, spotting signs of demolition immediately. There were already rows of houses arranged in a neat grid pattern, but a single building stood near the eastern side of the development. Piles of lumber betrayed it as the woodworker’s shop, although he’d never spotted it before. The sounds of handsaws chewing through wood, and the scent of freshly cut lumber assaulted him as he grew closer. A single Marshling woman stood out front, working with her strength to saw a piece of timber in half. She was quite powerful. Theo had to remind himself that size didn’t mean strength.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Sledge,” Theo said, smiling at the woman. Sledge was the most Half-Ogre name he’d ever heard. This assistant would fetch the woodworker in short order.

The Marshling looked up, scowling from her work. “You’re looking for Sledge? Well, you found her. What d’ya expect, a hulking Half-Ogre? Well, I’m what ya got.”

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