Sledge smelled like a combination of sweat and shaved wood. She stood as tall as Tresk, half the height of Theo, with pale brown skin with bright red frills on the side of her head. Her gray eyes were piercing, despite their dull color. The alchemist was taken aback by her appearance, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. It took his mind longer than he’d care to admit catching up to the present, and he stammered for a moment.
“Sledge. Yeah, I was expecting a Half-Ogre,” Theo said.
“Everyone does. You’re not special. Not even when you’re the mayor. How come you haven’t come to give me your lavished greetings? Sending your lackeys—what a shame,” Sledge said.
“I don’t have an excuse,” Theo said, trying not to laugh.
Sledge squinted at him, and it took everything inside him not to chuckle. She had all the mannerisms of the Half-Ogres, including the overblown bravado. “I’ve heard it all before. Take a shot,” she said.
“No, I mean,” Theo said, knitting his brow. “It’s just—were you adopted by Half-Ogres?”
“I was,” Sledge said, resuming her sawing. Theo noticed she was cutting through the wood far quicker than she should be able to, likely thanks to her cores. “Folks took me in when no one else would. Too many mouths, they’d say. Who’s laughing now! Everyone needs a good table.”
“So, you have woodworking cores?” Theo asked.
“Oh, mister bigshot. Coming to invest in my little old shop,” Sledge said, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve got cores. Good ones, too. Do I want an investment from you? Nope.”
Theo didn’t think it was possible for someone to have more sass than Tresk, but here she was. Covered in sawdust, wearing a tattered leather apron, and spitting in his face. As much as he wanted to be offended by her behavior, he couldn’t bring himself to dislike her. She was a straight-shooter, saying whatever was at the front of her mind. This was honesty he could respect. He didn’t even need his [Wisdom] to get a read on her. It was right out in the open.
“I need to commission some work,” Theo said, smiling.
“Oh,” Sledge said, moving away from the timber and leaving the handsaw where it was. “Now you’re speaking my language. This is a paying job, right? I take coin upfront.”
“Naturally,” Theo said, waving her off. “I need some barrels.”
“Barrels? I got a hundred barrels crowding my shop,” Sledge said. “Take your pick.”
“Specific barrels. They need to be made of Ogre Cypress. Watertight and banded,” Theo said.
“I can do that,” Sledge said, nodding. “How many do you need, how many unit capacity, blah blah.”
“Start with 1 200 unit barrel. I have a feeling I’m missing something about this,” Theo said.
“One barrel, alright,” Sledge said. “Ogre Cypress is a pain to work with. Give me 2 silver and a few hours to work it out. I’ll band it with copper.”
Theo happily forked over 2 silver for the barrel, and Sledge took the money without hesitation. The Marshling had no more kind words to say to him, waving him off with a dismissive hand. He left, feeling a mixture of confusion and amusement. Something in his cores whispered a flaw in the barrel’s design, but he couldn’t hear those voices clearly. It was something to be left to experimentation, the same reason he didn’t order the 10 barrels he wanted.
Leaving Sledge’s place led him to the construction sites of the planned housing area. The grid pattern they created was great. Most of the cores were already planted in the ground, creating a delightful sight against the remaining crumbling homes. The wood in the hand-built homes was rotted through, revealing the interiors in some places. Each planted house had the same stone appearance on the outside, complete with slatted roofs. They all had different quirks, though. It was in the details that Theo found the character of the buildings.
It was easy to be proud of what they’d done so far. He moved off from that area after watching the laborers go about dismantling a home. The Marsh Wolf Tavern loomed in the distance through a sheet of spitting rain. The downpour calmed down, as it typically did nearing midday, giving Theo a break from the constant soaking wetness. He heard voices inside the tavern before pushing through the threshold, a voice faintly familiar. As he entered the musty building, he spotted Uharis leaning over the front counter.
Xam, the proprietor of the tavern, had a look of complete annoyance on her face. She rolled her eyes at every word the Archmage said, casting a desperate glare at the alchemist when he entered. She was shorter than most Half-Ogres, a head or so shorter than Luras, and had skin far darker than the others in town. It was closer to a dark brown than a red.
“And with every breath I take, I swear to speak only your name,” Uharis said, slurring his words. “You are the midnight jewel of the swamp—I shall pluck you from these moist confines and elevate you.”
“Moist?” Xam asked, a look of horror spreading across her face. “Oh, hello Theo. I have some business to talk to you about.”
“But I’m not done serenading you,” Uharis said, frowning and almost slipping from the bar.
Theo moved to place a firm hand on the Archmage’s shoulder. “I think it’s time for a nap.”
“A nap? A nap would be splendid,” Uharis said, his face brightening. “I’ll let you get to your business, my midnight jewel. Farewell.”
The Archmage turned on the spot, stumbled into a stack of chairs before eventually finding his way to the stairs. He missed as many steps as he hit, falling over himself repeatedly.
“Gods, I thought he’d never leave,” Xam said, letting out a sigh of relief. “He’s been wooing me for an hour.”
“Is he serious?” Theo asked.
“That’s my greatest fear,” Xam said with a shiver. “Sometimes I put on the charm to get more money from the outsiders, but this is too much.”
“Well, you might have invited the wrong guy into your heart,” Theo said, smirking.
“He’s been giving me tips, so I won’t complain. Not yet,” Xam said. “Don’t look at me like that. I know what I’m doing. I just needed a break.”
“Fair enough,” Theo said. “How's business?”
“Since you’ve been holed up in that lab, things are going great,” Xam said.
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“There are more adventurers than ever. Merchants, too. And guess what those two kinds of people have in common? They gotta eat,” Xam said.
“Now, if only you dropped your prices,” Theo said.
“How? I can’t split a copper. They’re magical,” Xam said.
Something in Theo’s mind twitched at that word. The copper coins were magical. He knew that. The alchemist withdrew his old [Copper Alchemy Knife] and set it on the counter, staring at the enchanted metal. It was exactly the same as regular copper, the same stuff the water tower was made of, but it was infused with magic. If regular copper got in contact with reagents, they could instigate a reaction. The gears in his mind churned to a stop. He wasn’t even at the lab, yet he knew what the issue with Sledge’s barrels was.
“Are you robbing me?” Xam asked.
“No. I’m thinking about enchanted copper,” Theo said, running his fingers over the length of the blade. “Enchanted copper doesn’t react with reagents. But regular copper does.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Xam said.
“It is. Very dangerous,” Theo said. “But I need to make regular copper enchanted, somehow. Or at least make it non-reactive with my reagents.”
“You won’t find the answer here. If you’re interested in expensive stew, I’ve got you covered,” Xam said, glowering.
Theo waved her off. “If you have trouble with the Archmage, let me know. He’s a drunk.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Xam said, her face shifting to concern for a moment. “In small doses.”
Theo nodded, pushing his way out onto the rainy street yet again. Tresk complained about the rain in his mind again, but offered no additional information on the state of the swamp. He wandered northward for a while, without a destination in mind. Over the farmer’s hill and into the rocky rise of the northernmost section of the town. A single house, smoke rising in thin wisps against the rain through the chimney, sat on the open plane. As he passed, he saw the faces of the owner’s children. They were of a race known as the Khahari, hailing from the vast desert to the east. The alchemist hadn’t met the children yet, but they were likely to be as delightful as their mother and father.
Theo’s thoughts drifted to an alchemical solution to his problem, which seemed counterintuitive at first. But as he thought about it he realized that the copper would react with reagents and essences, but not the final potion. It required research, but there could be an approach through alchemy. His near-perfect memory allowed him to cycle through all the ingredients he knew, finding only one that might do the trick. The [River Clam Pearl] had a property called [Hone Edge], although he hadn’t used it. His intuition said there was more to that, but he pushed it aside. It was possible that the pearl had more properties. He concluded that his intuition was pushing him to that, but how would he eat a pearl? There was also the problem of grinding it up.
Two squat buildings, larger than he’d remembered them, sat in the distance. They were set against a steep incline against the rocky face of a cliff. The rise of the mountain to the north was gradual, enough to allow the construction of the quarry and stoneworker’s workshop. Where he expected the sound of labor, there was nothing. Even though the storm raged overhead, the workers would have been at it. Approaching the workshop, he spotted light from within. After a gentle knock, the door swung open.
The square jaw and prominent forehead of Ziz greeted him, a smile spreading across his face upon seeing the alchemist. The man was extremely wide, his skin a pale red color, with a shaved head. He didn’t hesitate, pulling Theo into a tight embrace.
“Thought you’d be gone forever,” Ziz said, squeezing him a little too hard.
“Good to see you, too,” Theo said. “How goes the mining?”
“At the moment? Horrible,” Ziz said. “Oh, before I forget. Come in.”
Ziz beckoned, leading Theo inside of the workshop. The building was meant for the cutting of stone, but the Half-Ogre turned it into half-workshop, half-barracks. Four other Half-Ogres lounged on the ground, stretching over bedrolls and waving half-heartedly.
“Looks cozy,” Theo said.
“We’re working on it,” Ziz said, withdrawing 4 gold coins from a pouch on the far end of the room. He handed them over to Theo, smiling.
“Well, you’ve only gone and done it,” Theo said, laughing. “Seriously, that quick?”
“That quick. The gemstones we found are worth a lot. That’s what Azmuil says.”
Azmuil was the dwarven merchant who offered to buy the stone in the first place. He was a contact of Fenians, which made him one of the good merchants of the land. Theo had heard tales of crooked merchants, but he hadn’t seen one yet. Those who were willing to make the journey to Broken Tusk saw only opportunity and knew not to push things too far.
“Then this place is yours,” Theo said.
He summoned his mayor’s screen, transferring the ownership of both the quarry and the workshop to Ziz. He inspected the workshop to verify the change went through.
[Stonecutter’s Workshop]
Owners: Ziz Rotgut
Faction: [Broken Tusk]
Level: 5 (20%)
Rent Due: 3 days
Expansions:
[Hewing Efficiency]
None
“You got it to level 5,” Theo said. “I was wondering why it was bigger.”
“We did. Thanks to you,” Ziz said, suddenly looking sheepish. “I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“Why? Out of all the things you could throw your gold at, why this?” Ziz asked.
The other laborers in the workshop perked up, craning their heads to set their gaze on the alchemist. He’d seen this before, back on Earth. Even if he tried to push those memories down, they still lingered. People were desperate for work, typically doing hard labor for little more than rations. The truth Theo knew in his heart was that his charity washed away some of those feelings. It cleansed the image of ruined cities and starving people. It made him feel good. He was still making a tidy profit, some absurd amount of return on his investment that he couldn’t calculate in his head.
Theo smiled. “I could have just paid you a wage to work the quarry. But, I’d have to feed it cores, check on you often—no, I didn’t have the time for that. I’ve already made my investment back, and you owe me 10 percent on all sales. Fenian taught me something important a while ago. It’s not about making the most amount of money now. It’s about creating relationships that pay off in more ways than one.”
“You could just say you’re nice,” a laborer said, sending the group into fits of laughter.
“He tries to hide that fact,” Ziz said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
“The wealth of the town is going to mean more than just one person holding all the coin,” Theo said. “Everyone I’m setting up is going to become a force of mercantile power soon. Broken Tusk might call on her sons and daughters to face whatever problems we have in the future.”
“Well said,” Ziz said. “We’re all more than happy to pitch in.”
Theo took another look around the cramped interior of the workshop. It was hardly a good living situation. “You should get some house seed cores up here,” he said.
“We’re planning on it. A merchant came to town the other day, but he wanted an absurd amount of money for a few seeds,” Ziz said. “He left when he saw we weren’t so easy to fleece.”
There was the dishonest merchant Theo had heard so much about. He was glad the people of the town had the good sense to drive them off, when needed. His intuition said this was going to happen more often, but he had to question that logic. If the roads were almost impassable, how was that going to happen?
The rain played across the roof of the workshop, filling it with a constant ringing sound. Theo had no idea how these men were able to sleep under such conditions, but shrugged it off. They could stay closer to the town if they needed—they had the funds. His mind drifted away from the concerns of the quarry, back to more immediate concerns. He looked at Ziz’s broad shoulders and smiled.
“I have a favor to ask,” Theo said.
“Anything.”
Theo withdrew a [River Clam Pearl] from his inventory and handed it over to the man. Ziz rolled it over in his fingers, shrugging after a moment. “What do you want me to do with it?”
“Crush it,” Theo said. “Into a fine powder, if you could.”
Ziz grinned, withdrawing a hammer from his belt. A thick slab of marble sat unworked on the far side of the room. The Half-Ogre placed a small section of cured leather on top, nestling the pearl there and drawing the hammer back for an overhead swing. His hammer came down quickly, crushing the pearl into dust in an instant. The ground shook from the force of the strike, but the slab of rock was unharmed.
“You came to the right guy to crush something. That’s the one thing I’m good at,” Ziz said.
Theo nodded in agreement, approaching the crushed pearl. He licked his finger, placing it in the fine powder before placing it on his tongue. An electric sensation spread through his mouth, tingling his tongue and coating it with a layer of something. After a moment, the system produced a notification.
[Properties Discovery!]
You’ve discovered an additional effect from the [River Clam Pearl] by eating it.
[Infuse] discovered.
The alchemist’s intuition shouted its approval. Even without the ability to inspect the property, he knew that would do the trick. He also doubted it was the intended use of the property, but it didn’t matter. A detergent-style potion came to mind, something that could coat any material in a resistant layer. He produced all the pearls he had in his inventory, handing them over to the strong Half-Ogre and grinning.
Ziz happily crushed all the pearls into dust, and Theo was thankful they went into his inventory without a problem. The laborers all talked amongst themselves, mostly complaining about the rain while the work was being done. The Half-Ogre seemed proud of himself once he’d finished, sticking his chest out and flexing his muscles.
When Theo went to say his farewells, Ziz stopped him. “We have a bit of an issue, if you’re willing to help.”
“I’m always here to help,” Theo said, smiling.
“Of course. Well, let me show you the problem,” Ziz said, gesturing to the door.
Theo followed him out into the rain, crossing the distance between he workshop and the quarry. A large square hole represented the section of stone they’d already removed. Glowing markers designated the bounds of the quarry on four sides, spanning 50 paces in every direction. As the alchemist peered down into the hole, he saw the problem. While the quarry was at an angle, the constant downpour filled it with water. He watched as it drained off on the low side of the hole, running in small waves across the rocky terrain.
“Ah, that’s a big problem,” Theo said, scratching his head in confusion. “A really big problem.”
“It drains out on its own, but it can take a few days,” Ziz said. “I was wondering if there was an alchemical solution to this. We thought about putting a roof over it, but the runoff up the mountain is bad.”
A few things came to mind, but nothing completely formed. From his current list of ingredients, the [Flame] property from the [Fire Salamander Egg] might do the trick, the idea being to boil the water off rapidly. The [Manashrooms] also had the property [Freezing], which might cause more harm than good.
“The thing that jumps to mind is a fire detergent that boils the water out,” Theo said. “[Withering] might do something, but I’m unsure. It may just cause the water to become poisoned.”
“Whatever you can do,” Ziz said. “Just don’t rush it. We can wait the rain out.”
Theo nodded, giving his farewells with the intent to actually leave this time. He departed the operation and made his way down the steep incline of the hills. The smoke still billowed from Zan’kir’s place, but the town seemed sleepy otherwise. The deluge outside was likely the cause, but the alchemist made his way back to Sledge’s place, anyway. He wanted to check on his latest project.