86 cupra remained after purchasing the tools for preparing Livewood oil. I would once again need rhuvines, as well as filo petals, reeter sap, and bark from what I would label a white oak.
Many plants in the world held some semblance to those on Earth, but my knowledge wasn't extensive enough in herbology to relabel them all. For many things I try to translate them in a way convenient for you to read, even if there are some differences.
Rhuvines were the cheapest material to purchase, at 5 cupra for forearm’s length. I purchased three for 12, more than was needed for two tries, but it saved me money and provided extra in case of a mistake.
Filo petals come from a flower resembling the cross between a daisy and a buttercup. For Livewood oil, they should have a smooth, somewhat oily texture and come apart easily when rubbed between two fingers. A fistful cost 16 cupra, but since I didn't wish to reveal
The bark is probably just as you imagine it, though however it had been collected left it in big sheafs. A piece the size of two large index cards cost 34 cupra. For the others, it might be easy to gloss over without any point of reference, but you probably noticed that the small chunk of tree cost almost a week’s worth of meals.
This is something that I should clarify to help clear your vision of the world I was in. While there was a forest to the north which seemed to know no end, there were actually shockingly few trees throughout the majority of Derriad. Farmsteads leveled most of the surroundings, and later I would come to learn that the word I used for forest was the name of the vast woodland to the north. If not for the fact almost all the land seemed to arable and was being worked, I would not hesitate to call it desolate. Even saying prairie or grassland evokes too many trees in the mind.
Glaucen luckily was only a few days from the nearest edge, and as such the price wasn't all too exorbitant. I just winced as I failed to haggle down the price of such a mundane object, available for free on the ground near Salt Village.
Lastly, the material that brought the most trouble during purchase, reeter sap. The base of Livewood oil, splashing around with low viscosity, the translucent grey liquid felt slippery to the touch.
Not that anyone really wanted to touch it. Even though it’s called sap, the fluid actually comes from the abdomen of reeters. Or in terms more easy to understand, a coconut size spider.
Finding someone selling reeter sap didn't lose much of a challenge. Alchemists concentrated in Glaucen, and it was a fairly common material with properties of both fluidity and adhesion, great for making oils of many types. The real trouble I had was finding someone selling a quantity I could afford. Unlike discrete objects such as rhuvines or bark, or a loose collection like the filo petals that could be condensed into smaller containers, reeter sap only seemed to come in pots at least a gallon in size. With only 20 cupra remaining, I already could barely afford the half liter needed.
“No, you can’t haggle the price up here, I literally have no more money to give you.” I futilely argued with several different merchants before managing to make the purchase. With several it became apparent I was just wasting time a while before I gave up, but I was learning more about the culture.
I also learned the expletive ‘kunocht’, which made everyone in the vicinity glance over your way in surprise. I decided not to try and determine its meaning through practice.
Ingredients in hand, I needed a place to work without interruption. As a novice, there needed to be as few distractions as possible, and it would be good if the locale didn’t mind a strange wizard conducting experiments. Unexpectedly, a suitable location came to mind.
“*You ain’t never had a friend, never had a friend, you ain’t never had a friend like me.*” Under the sunlight the old city felt much more relaxed, by which I mean boring, so I sang to myself as I roamed. Running out of lyrics, it wasn’t like I lost my way, but the back alleys weren’t all that easy to navigate. Even when one gets a general understanding of the terrain, the knowledge of a few days can’t match a born and bred local. To me, while the dilapidated buildings were all very distinct on an individual basis, they were thematically homogenous, and landmarks didn’t stand out all too much.
Not to say I didn’t eventually find the path; after skirting around a street kerfuffle, I spotted a familiar vagrant and recalled where to go. It seems like a strange thing to remember, but that stocky and bearded look made me think of Barda and Grey Guards. That may seem like a contemporary reference, but it was actually based on an old series. Hobo aside, I made my way to a familiar courtyard.
At the sound of my approach, I caught the tail ends of little ones retreating into their houses. Good response times for a group of toddlers. Speaking of which, the age and numbers of the group seemed to be much lower. The older ones were out hunting then. Leaving the helpless here alone didn’t fit my vision of Street Rat and his companions. Stepping towards the Grey-Line Birch my suspicion was confirmed, but it was a pretty obvious answer.
Snowflake stepped out from the shadows! She was a kindhearted individual caring for orphans all along!
Haha, no, as if. The one who appeared happened to be Little Big Guy, who fell ever further into that gentle giant archetype. He also didn’t seem too upset by my presence, having recognized the fortune that came with me last time. What a great kid.
“It’s you,” he exclaimed without any oomph. “Thank you for yesterday, but why are you here?”
“Kehehe, it’s good you remember your manners.” Bobbling my head in approval, I let out a slightly arrogant chuckle. Despite being a ragamuffin, his demeanor deserved an A+. Having a loyal and humble member in his band of True Companions, Street Rat would definitely do well in the future. “I’m just looking for a secluded place to work for a while. This tree here is quite interesting as well you know.”
Perhaps I was trying too much to be cryptic, but the patterns on the tree were pretty neat. As it grew from the paved ground, I sat beneath it while retrieving wood from my
Little Big Guy didn't say a word, watching from the sidelines. Seeing their guardian relaxed, four children came crawling out of the woodwork, curiosity plastered on their faces. They were around the 6-8, but seemed strangely quiet for their age. Maybe they were in awe of my mystical presence.
“You may watch, so long as you don't make a commotion. Don't get too close either.” Looking to Little Big Guy, he nodded in understanding, and put himself on guard against any sudden movements from the little ones. With that I could put them out of my own mind and focus on my alchemy wholeheartedly.
Livewood oil, market price 80 cupra, applied to rotting, split, or otherwise damaged works of wood to repair them. A more potent batch ran about 120 and could raise the base strength, but actually producing it wasn't easy. Even Theodore, master of consistency, could only do so one in five attempts.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
In other words, Livewood oil acted finicky when the recipe was changed. With new equipment over a makeshift fire, I really was pushing my luck.
Despite being a novice at alchemy, I didn't shy away from the challenge. Due to it’s poor receptivity to changes, the recipe happened to be for two standard doses, 250mL each. At 80 cupra per dose, I made a massive profit considering my current wealth level.
Prep work by distilling some water. I didn't particularly want to use the flasks brought from Underworld of Armok for reeter sap, but for just water it was fine. Waving a hand through the fire, I regularly tested the heat. A hitpoint or two drained each time, but did so sustainably and needed to get the temperature as close to that of Theodore’s grill as I could. It didn't matter for just boiling away impurities, but I wanted to familiarize myself with the way the temperature changed.
As I waited, I prepared the filo leaves. They needed to be crushed and then steeped, an alchemical tea. Being able to afford a mortar and pestle would have been nice, but I lacked even that much. My hands were dyed yellow by the end of the procedure for a moment before using
The remaining distilled water needed to cool for a short while before placing in the bark. Cautiously, the wood was split in half before the fibers hanging off the ends were removed. I thought of asking Theodore about the importance of the step later that day, and followed the instructions without knowing why. Then the bark was placed into the beaker, now filled with cool distilled water.
After waiting for both liquids to reach the proper state, I readied for the mixing stage of the process. I needed to move quickly to complete the product, in spite of my poor tool.
The base of reeter sap with its properties of adhesion and fluidity meant it formed a film on most surfaces. Dumping the extract from the bark and the minced rhuvines into the ceramic container of sap could disturb the balance, congealing a film over all the surfaces, ruining the process. Such a reason was why the glass beaker should have been used, but it was occupied at the moment.
So instead I decided to pour the reeter sap into the bark extract, something Theodore warned against doing. Thankfully he somewhat explained the reason, reeter sap didn't mix well in large quantities, which was why extract and rhuvines needed to be added in slowly.
The reaction between both these elements and the sap needed to proceed at an even rate, lest it become unstable, but neither could the bark extract and minced rhuvines be mixed beforehand. The sap used up whatever was in the rhuvine and extract, keeping them from interacting. Pouring the reeter sap into the extract meant quickly and thoroughly mixing minced vines into a liquid prone to spilling.
Prone to spilling? Hah! As if such a small risk would deter me. Of course the balance of materials may be upset, but I was already pushing my limits. Those from Salt Village gave their all, and Pan and the woodcutters had been quite generous to me. Ralph always gave me a good deal on the fish I caught, and Rion taught me to speak, despite being a rascal. There wasn't much special about most of the villagers, but I still interacted with many on a day to day basis. A bit of effort? No problem! I'll make money, and pay you guys back tenfold!
I shifted everything to within arms reach, doing a few trial runs of grabbing the different ingredients quickly without spilling them. Misshapen glass felt odd in my hands, and though it probably wouldn't have had any effect, it didn't hurt to be careful.
“This is the important part. Keep back.” For a bit the spectators had fallen to the back of my mind, but analysis of surroundings brought them to attention. I fed you guys, so don't mess me up, ‘Kay?
Upon being readied, I cracked my knuckles before beginning without ceremony. There isn't really a way to describe the scene in a non-visual medium, unless the distances my hand traveled and the angle of each joint at each moment was listed. It was my second concoction, but I was at ease. There was no sweat dripping down my forehead, or battle of consciousness with a heavenly flame. My hands just moved between the materials in an arc before me, using
To greater misfortune than I realized, the grey fluid splashed out onto me despite the care in my efforts. Since it didn't deal any damage, I ignored it. With the last of the rhuvine starting to dissolve in the mixture, the flask of filo petals was upended. Covering the mouth with a piece of cloth, only the water came out. Such a clever idea, what incredibly intelligent person came up with that? Internally praising myself in a tongue in cheek but satisfied manner, the yellowish petal extract poured out.
Unceremoniously, my hitpoints dropped by several. A searing sensation had appeared on my cheek; in my concentration I'd continuously edged up to the glass beaker. A little too close for safety, but I didn't risk suddenly backing up and ruining the Livewood oil. I eased the angle of the flask, realizing that the reason the splash had been so large was the irregular flow of fluid due to the cloth.
What stupid mistakes. At that point I could only finish pouring in the filo petal extract with more caution, continue, and hope the product turned out well. With everything added, the mixture once again needed to be moved over the fire until the now bronze concoction turned a smoky-translucent shade of greenish-yellow.
The mixture shortly changed color, but then proceeded to fluctuate in its opacity. Theodore hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort, so I decided to be a little more patient before it settled into what looked to be the proper shade. Using
Success! Probably. Discerning the success of a potion by eye wasn't something that could be done by a novice like myself. A small piece of wood would be fine to test it out, I cracked a branch from among my firewood, smearing a few drops across it.
The liquid didn't mystically move towards the wound, and the oil around the crack remained inert. That which sat on the exposed inside trembled, turning into a golden jello, before darkening to bronze and then brown. Small fibers slowly sprouted inside the liquid, but due to the misty nature of the oil I couldn't make out much else. Before long the split bound together the branch, leaving only a slightly lumpy area.Touching the newly regrown area, it emitted a faint warmth. A success then.
“Well,I'll be heading on now. Be sure to tell *Street Rat* and those other two I said hi.”
Little Big Guy looked like he wanted to say something, and one of the little ones giggled. Figuring I'd just spilled something on myself, I waved goodbye vigorously before vanishing back to the streets.
A/N:AHHHHHHHHHHH!!