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Crysopoeia - DROPPED
Prologue: A Histoy

Prologue: A Histoy

“There are but three universal truths in this world: First all that is given something is took. Secondly that gold holds power; and the third is that all things must end. To think these wrong is to deny the world.”

 “The universal truths – The alchemist’s dogma”

                Within the city of Thestrim at our nations heart lies the most peculiar of places. Over long neglected cobbles and through streets most decent folk would never walk lies Alkahest, one of the last of its kind. The remnants of a guild rooted some 300 years ago, at the height of the alchemy craze; it had long since fallen into decline much as the skill and reputation of its practitioners had.

Alchemy for much of its time has been regarded as a waste; a field only followed by those with nothing to gain or for those who have pledged their lives to the purist of gold. Now most things are in fact are routed in truth, even guild members themselves would be unlikely to deny their greed but this was not always the truth.

Roughly 300 years ago, alchemy was regarded as a noble pursuit with kings and the aristocracy alike deeply invested in finding new ways to assert power and find wealth. Though the goals of past and modern alchemy are much the same the reason for the massive fall of the field lies solely on Lefwin the mage who conned the world.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Lefwin had succeeded in finding a way to create gold, or so he made others believe, he had brought his ‘findings’ to the to the cities center and in a grand show unveiled his creation, an opaque black liquid which seemed to soak up the light around it. He stood above the glass container which held his work and held a silver medallion above his head spoke.

He told of an tale of wonder how in researching a way to increase his ability to absorb mana him he came across a tome that spoke of a chrysopoeia, a way to turn anything into gold. He spoke of countless months spent refining the mixture until it reached a pint where it seemed to stable it self. Those who new of the countless failed attempts to create this formula rolled their eyes until he lowered the medallion. A horrible stench of bellowed out of the mixture as it begun to boil, but Lefwin stood resolute already used to this reaction. After a few moments, the mixture stilled and pulled out his prize a medallion of gold then left.

As he had expected it was only a matter of days until he contacted by the king. He sold his concoction for wealth beyond his dreams, enough to put most noble houses to shame. The king after gaining what he thought to be a source of endless wealth was enraged after learning the mixtures true purpose an acid strong enough to destroy all things submerged. He sent for guards to raid Letwin’s estate but they found nothing but barren rooms the man had seemly removed himself from existence.

The king in attempt to regain his wealth turned to the populace taxing them heavier then ever before. The times were dark and cold, the citizens angered at the king’s foolishness rebelled. They formed their own forces and tried to take back what was theirs. They failed. What they did succeed in was plunging the kingdom in ruin, no food, no gold, no citizens. Nothing was left.

The events scarred the continent and alchemy was labelled as a work of greed, it lost its merit in a world desperate to forget it. But that would not be its end.

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