Installment 18 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment018.png]

Gerhardt was apparently famous - or perhaps infamous - locally. The cloth merchants were able to give detailed directions to his shop. They had high praise for the efficacy of Gerhardt's medicines, but warned them about anything else.

"He's a little untethered in his head, always trying crazy things. Be careful he doesn't talk you into buying something dangerous...or weird."

The apothecary was right where it had been described. Unusual odors in the area, mostly unpleasant, were familiar to Al as typical of an alchemical laboratory. The squat brick building sat in the middle of a large patch of bare earth and stone. The walls had additional buttressing built of brick in several places around the outside. The roof was covered in clay tiles and the visible wooden portions were blackened and seemed to have been rubbed down with some vaguely oily substance.

The roof didn't quite line up with the walls, and appeared to be tethered to the ground at each corner by heavy chains. A slab of wood hanging above the door was painted to depict a traditional alchemists' round-bottomed glass flask half-filled with a clear blue substance, alongside a stylized drop of blood. The sign swung slightly in the chilly late-afternoon breeze.

Contrary to Al's cynical expectation, there was no comically-timed explosion from inside as they approached. There was, though, a sudden movement of an overeager gnome knocking him off his balance, followed by nearly getting stepped on by a gnoll as he stumbled. Bote chuckled as they helped Al back to his feet.

The four of them crowded into the small open space that served the public. A long, low counter bisected the room. Behind it was a vast array of plain but sturdy-looking wooden cabinets, all padlocked. One cabinet near the middle had a glass front, and Al could see a stack of familiar bottles containing a milky fluid. Apparently, Gerhardt was the local reseller of the manor's health potions, among other things. From somewhere behind the cabinets, a quiet hissing/roaring sound told Al there was an alchemical flame-generator in use.

Wikwocket looked at the locked wooden cabinets, disappointed.

"Where's the magic?"

"Magic? What? Bah!" a slightly muffled voice answered from somewhere behind the cabinets. The sound of the alchemical apparatus stopped abruptly and heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. One of the cabinets swung back, and the skinniest dwarf Al had ever seen came stomping indignantly out from behind it. His hair and beard appeared to be waxed or oiled with a black substance and were both tightly braided and tied. He was about the same height as Bote, his head level with Al's chest. He wore thin, flexible leathery shirt and set of coveralls, heavy boots, a tightly-meshed chain shirt, and an odd pair of protective goggles over his eyes, with glass or polished-crystal lenses - one blue and one red. He seemed to have no eyebrows, and his thin build made his clothes look too big for his body. Al wondered if this dwarf ever ate real food.

"Gerhardt Wasserbrenner does not deal in anything so capricious and unreliable as magic. The noble and practical science of alchemy is practiced here!"

His speech cut off and his eyes went wide as he saw Gruntle standing with them. Al hesitated to speak up in reassurance, perhaps subconsciously hoping for a bit of payback for maligning Al's family craft, but it was no matter. It turned out that Gerhardt wasn't actually frightened at all. Instead, he clambered frantically over the counter to stand looking up at Gruntle.

"What is this you have brought to me today, hmm?"

"He's a..." Al started, but was hastily waved into silence by Gerhardt.

"Shh! Shh! Don't tell me, I will remember!" Gerhardt slowly walked around Gruntle, intently examining him. Gruntle stood, baffled, as Gerhardt bent down to examine Gruntle's toes, lifted Gruntle's loincloth for a moment to look underneath, then stared intently into Gruntle's right eye. Finally, he leaned in and sniffed deeply. A wide-eyed look of sudden recognition stretched across Gerhardt's face.

"Gnoll! You are a gnoll!"

Gruntle grunted and cocked his head to the side with obvious confusion. A crooked smile parted Gerhardt's beard.

"I do not have any gnoll."

Gerhardt clambered back over the counter and in what seemed like a single motion kicked a stool into place in front of one of the cabinets, jumped up on it, pulled a ring of keys out of a pocket, selected one without even looking, and unlocked the cabinet with it. He pulled open the door of the cabinet. It was full of glassware. Gerhardt selected a large, empty glass beaker from a lower shelf. Then, he was back over the counter and standing in front of Gruntle again. He held the beaker up.

"Here, fill this as best you can. If you need another beaker please tell me, and try not to spill." He shook the beaker impatiently.

As Gruntle hesitantly reached out to take it, Gerhardt blinked rapidly. He looked around as if only now realizing where he was. He slapped himself once, and pulled the beaker back before Gruntle could grab it.

"You are customers, not...Yes, well, please excuse me, sometimes my research distracts me. Just a moment please," he said. One last time, and with less unseemly haste, he climbed back over the counter. He swung the open cabinet door a bit wider and put the beaker back. As he closed it, Al noticed that all but the bottom few shelves were filled with bottles of varying shapes and sizes, all containing transparent fluids ranging from nearly clear to golden to amber-colored. Each was labeled in dwarfish runes. Al caught the words for "cow" and "horse" on two of the larger bottles before the cabinet door was swung shut and locked back up.

"Now then," Gerhardt said in a more business-like tone, "What problems can Gerhardt Wasserbrenner solve for you with alchemy?"

"Do you have anything to deal with villager-eating monsters?" Al challenged.

"What sort of monster?" Gerhardt asked, looking up towards Gruntle.

"Not him. We don't actually know anything about it yet, just that it's killing people in Henhaven."

"We are not entirely ignorant," Bote corrected, "we do know the villagers describe it as a beast which suggests that it has attributes resembling a predatory animal. We also know they say it hunts them in the daylight, so it doesn't fear the sun, and perhaps dislikes darkness. This may not be much, but it is something."

Gerhardt nodded appreciatively at his fellow dwarf. "This is not enough to formulate a specific remedy for your problem, but I can make some useful suggestions."

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Kicking the stool from place to place and unlocking cabinets, he selected a small collection of glass and clay containers. He arranged them neatly on the counter in front of the party.

"Now then, the obvious treatment for hostile beasts is of course fire. Most find fire quite harmful and they have a natural aversion to it."

He hefted a clay pitcher and carefully dispensed a single drop of a thick, oily, black substance onto a fingertip. He held this out proudly for the party's inspection.

"My own invention, a truly dephlogisticated oil! Rubbed into any material it provides proof against catching fire, and some degree of protection from heat. The material it is rubbed upon may even be live skin, it is quite harmless." He rubbed the drop into his hands to demonstrate.

"How does this help with the monster?" Al asked, skeptically.

"It is obvious! You see, there is a byproduct of the process by which my dephlogisticated oil is made. This," Gerhardt said, lifting a sealed glass ampoule full of a thin, clear liquid, "is ultraphlogisticated oil. When exposed to the air, it will immediately burst into flame without fail. Allow me to demonstrate." Gerhardt lifted the lid off of a small clay pot, which turned out to be filled with wax beads.

"Encased in each bead is a small sample of my ultraphlogisticated oil. As you can see, I need merely break the wax..."

He clapped his hands together, smashing the bead between them. His hands were immediately engulfed in a flash of bright yellow flames, which continued to flicker for a second or two before going out.

"As you can see, my hands are not aflame, and I have only experienced some minor discomfort from the momentary heat," he said proudly, flapping his hands to cool them off. It was true, though, all of the hairs on the dwarven alchemist's hands remained un-scorched and there was no obvious sign of harm.

"Ooo! Ooo! I want to try that!" Wikwocket enthused, holding out her hands pleadingly. The bemused Gerhardt offered her a drop of the dephlogisticated oil for her hands and a wax bead. Wikwocket clapped her hands together. She cheered and did a small dance as her own small hands were momentarily covered in flames. She laughed as she flapped her own hands to cool them.

"That does get a little hot, doesn't it?"

Al rubbed his forehead.

"So...you're suggesting we smear ourselves with dephlogisticated oil and then try to frighten the monster off by setting ourselves on fire?"

"Very good, yes! Precisely! Beasts will not try to eat you if you are covered with fire!"

"The logic of your statement is indisputable," Al deadpanned.

"Thank you."

"And how much do these ingenious inventions cost?"

"Twenty-five gold for enough dephlogisticated oil to cover a person your size, or the same for an ampoule of ultraphlogisticated oil. Because you seem to appreciate good alchemical work, I would sell you both together for forty, as this will help me avoid unnecessary surplus."

"What about the little wax ones?" asked Wikwocket.

Gerhardt waved dismissively. "They are far too small for any real usefulness. They are only for demonstration."

"But what if I want to demonstrate?"

Gerhardt chuckled, pleased at the interest in his work. "Very well, if you will buy the regular product, I will give you some. If not, perhaps 1 gold each."

"Before we make a decision," Al said carefully, "we should see what other advice Gerhardt Wasserbrenner has for us, I'm sure he has devised many products that would be useful."

Gerhardt nodded. "You seem quite rational for a wizard."

Well, Al thought to himself, he seems friendly enough, let's see, how do you say this in Dwarvish again?...

"Ich bin auch Kämpfer," Al said, once again reminding someone that he was not only a wizard. His accent was atrocious, but Gerhardt seemed to appreciate the effort.

"Und Sie sprechen auch echtes Sprache. Sehr gut," Gerhardt replied, pleased to meet someone non-Dwarvish who clearly understood the value of Dwarven language and culture. He nodded to Bote and expressed approval. "Ich mag Ihr Zauberer."

"A warrior must deal with worldly practicalities that most wizards strive to avoid," Gerhardt continued in the common language. "This is a good thing. This would of course make for an improved wizard."

Al aimed a smug expression at the rest of his party as Gerhardt returned to showing his wares. He had a collection of medicines to treat a number of common illnesses that might be spread by animals, salves to prevent wound infections, antidotes for a variety of common toxins, and an ointment to cure and prevent fleas.

"And then I also have something new I have only recently invented which you might find useful when dealing with beasts that eat people."

Gerhardt lifted a small round-bottomed glass flask containing a cloudy mint-green liquid. Al read the dwarven writing on the side.

"Poisonousness?" Al guessed. Gerhardt nodded. "Very good. Yes, it is a potion of poisonousness that I have formulated. It has not yet been well-tested I'm afraid, but it should be very effective."

"So we would put it on our weapons before we attack the monster? Or do we put it on some meat and get the monster to eat it?" Wikwocket asked.

"No, no, you are thinking of poison. This is a potion of poisonousness," Gerhardt corrected.

Al thought about this. "So...you drink this, and you become poisonous?"

"Correct again. I assure you it is quite harmless to the one who ingests it, I have tested it myself."

"Oh, like a snake! I could kill the monster by biting it!" Wikwocket exclaimed.

"No, that would be a potion of venomousness. Who has ever heard of such a thing?"

Gerhardt paused at this. He unlocked a drawer in the counter and pulled out a notebook. He scrawled a quick note in ink, then closed it up and locked it back in the drawer.

"Perhaps a future project to explore. But again, no. Simply put, if a beast were to eat the person who drinks the potion of poisonousness, they would become very sick and possibly die. So far, I have tested this against mosquitoes with great effectiveness. Now, then, what would you like to purchase?"