Jack stood before the potter's wheel, his brow furrowed. It strangely reminded him of the chairs restaurants kept for babies. He clumsily climbed it and sat, lifting himself a few centimeters above ground.
The potter’s wheel was entirely wood, with the odd metal piece. It had a small flat disk on the top connected by an axle to a larger similar disk at the bottom. A wooden beam above the large disk served as a footstool.
He experimented with kicking the large disk. The axle was well lubricated and spun easily. He kicked the wheel a few more times, making it spin faster and faster and causing a gentle squeak. After he stopped kicking, the wheel kept turning for a minute without showing signs of slowing down. He finally pressed his feet against the wheel, and it stopped.
Using a potter’s wheel to mold clay seemed faster than pinching, and the finished pieces were more streamlined and elegant. On his way to and from the marketplace, he watched a couple of tutorials online and felt ready to experiment. He was also eager to experiment with [Stoneware Clay].
Stoneware Clay (Uncommon)
Description: A durable, high-fired ceramic material known for its strength, versatility, and earthy aesthetic appeal.
It sold for double the value of [Earthenware Clay], and tutorials recommended it for wheel throwing. Jack felt the lump. It was gray, and as he pushed his fingers against it, it felt a little softer than earthenware.
He placed it at the wheel’s center and kicked the wheel several times. First, he tried to bring his hands together. As the spinning clay made contact, it didn’t give. Surprised, Jack pushed harder, and finally, the clay gave. After several turns, it had formed a perfect circle. Excited, Jack brought his hands closer, and the clay slowly rose like a blooming flower. He then pressed both palms over it, pushed it, and it flattened into a disk.
Jack chuckled, excited. Throwing was so much more fun than pinching. The clay seemed to come alive when on a wheel. Jack decided to try a recipe he already knew. He grunted as he brought his hands together again, forming a cone.
Then, he pushed down with his thumbs to make a hole in the center. The edges were slightly lifted and pulled apart, and Jack brought his hand to ease them back into shape while pushing the inside with his other hand. His forehead was sweaty right now. It was surprisingly strenuous work.
A game of push and pull started. Even though wheel throwing was faster, there was much more going on. When he got the inside of the bowl right, the outside seemed to escape his control. When he focused more on the outer rim, he lost control of the inside. It was like keeping two dogs in a bathtub!
After a few minutes of turning, Jack let the wheel slow to a halt. He wiped the sweat off his brow. His stamina bar was almost depleted. In return for his efforts, sitting on the wheel was a crooked pot that seemed to have just been transported from an alien planet through a wormhole. It had odd curves and angles. What had he done wrong? And was wheel throwing supposed to be this difficult? That old man had made it seem so easy!
As he munched on one of the apples in his inventory to recover his stamina, he remembered what he knew about pottery and how the guides suggested using a wet cloth or sponge to even the ceramics. Maybe that’s what he was missing and why he was pushing so hard. The clay was too dry. He grabbed one of the vials of water that he kept in his inventory and poured some over the clay. He also wetted his hands, just in case.
He kicked the wheel a few times and squeezed the deformed bowl back into a lump of clay. As it soaked in the water, the strength Jack needed to throw the piece significantly reduced. It was almost as if he had been driving for a few miles, feeling the engine’s strain, only to realize that the handbrake had been pulled all along.
Excited, Jack threw the clay, feeling it give much more easily in his hand. However, after a few turns, the clay began lurching and wobbling like a ship caught in a storm. Jack tried to stabilize it, but the wobbling became even more erratic, and finally, the bowl collapsed, and splatters of slip flew all over.
“Argh!” Jack let out. “Too much water, now.”
Jack took a deep breath and had another apple to replenish his stamina.
*
It was Jack’s fourth try on the wheel. He had finally gotten the water ratio right, but still could not get an even piece of ceramics. And this was all just practice. He hadn’t even gotten started on his quest. He was this close to giving up on using the wheel and pinching all the dinnerware.
Jack pushed and pushed, and the piece slipped from the center of the wheel. “Argh. I have to re-center it again.” He was stuck at this part of the process. Even though the clay’s moisture was in the sweet spot, he still had to apply a lot of pressure. With time, the piece left the center of the wheel, and he had to stop everything to reposition it.
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Just as Jack was about to give up, he looked up to see an old man, his eyes twinkling with amusement, watching him from a few steps away. It was the potter he had seen use the wheel earlier.
"Would you mind if I gave you a few pointers, son?" the old man asked.
“R-really? Would you do that for me?”
The old man took a few steps forward to signal he really would. “Firstly, you need to prepare the clay before you throw it.”
“Uh? How so?”
“Get the clay’s moisture right before you get it on the wheel. Try it.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. Jack didn’t see the difference between adding water to the clay before and after throwing it, but he did as he was told.
“Roll it. Work it. Make sure it has a consistent amount of moisture. It shouldn’t have any hard spots.”
Jack obeyed with a pursed lip. Throwing the wheel was fun, but this was boring. Just as he was about to get the lump of clay onto the wheel, the old man waved his finger. “Not yet! I can see it’s still not wedged right. Work it more.”
Biting his lip, Jack did it again. As he was about to stop, he caught the old man’s warning glance, and sighing, he continued until the old man gave him the order to stop.
“That’s more like it. Now center it.”
Jack carefully positioned the clay and kicked the wheel. As he touched it, he gasped.
“Haha. You can feel it, can’t you? Isn’t that better?”
Jack nodded, excited. The clay felt obedient; that was the best way to describe it. Before it felt as if he was working with unruly, difficult clay but now, it was cooperating.
“Throw it. I’ll tell you what you’re doing wrong.”
“OK!” Jack prepared to push with both his hands to get the lump into an even shape. He couldn’t wait to see what he…
“No! Sit straight!”
Jack was stunned. He hadn’t even started, and the old man was already finding flaws. “E-excuse me?”
“You’re pushing with your arms. You have to use your whole upper body. Pull your elbows in, sit up straight.”
Jack took a deep breath and brought his hands against the clay.
“Sit straight! That’s not straight.”
Jack mumbled a few complaints but straightened even further. He started working on the clay.
“Woah! Slow down there, cowboy! What’s the hurry?”
“What did I do wrong now?!” Jack asked, annoyed.
“Uuf. What a temper! You really are an impatient young man, aren’t you? I’m just trying to help you, son.”
Jack blushed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on that.”
Hearing Jack’s apology the old man chuckled. “I used to be impatient too. But impatience isn’t good when throwing. You can’t just whip the clay into submission. You have to coax it gently. Think: firm, not strong. Got it?”
“Firm, not strong,” Jack recited. “Firm, not strong.” Instead of just pushing the clay, Jack guided it.
“Slower. Easy. Gently,” the old man encouraged.
Jack slowed even further. All of a sudden, the strain on his muscles was gone. The clay slowly and gently fell into the shape that Jack wanted. Because he wasn’t using much strength, the piece remained in the center of the wheel.
“That’s it. You’re just letting the processing occur naturally. Clay is like people. They need time.”
Jack nodded.
“The wheel is a good teacher,” the old man praised. “It’ll teach you some patience, young man.”
The potter turned to walk away.
“Wait! That’s it?”
“That’s it!”
“But there’s so much I don’t know!”
“What is holding you back is impatience. Not a lack of skill.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Call me Felix. I spend most of my days here. I’ll be right there if you need me,” he said, pointing to the workspace where Jack had first seen him working.
“Thank you, Mr. Felix.”
The wheel was still turning. Even though Jack wanted to chase after the man and ask him a few more questions, he couldn’t just leave this piece half-finished. Glancing over Felix’s workspace, he carefully pressed his thumbs on the middle. Catching himself doing it too strongly, he eased the pressure and waited for the wheel to do the work for him.
After a few minutes, Jack had completed a spinning bowl, albeit one that was glued to the wheel. It was the first time that he was getting this far. He recalled what the next steps, according to the tutorials, were, wishing that Felix were here to guide him through them.
He grabbed a wet sponge from the table and used it to smooth the bowl's surface. He then grabbed a pointy piece of wood and resisted the urge to stick it to the bottom of the piece.
Instead, he brought it gently to the base of the piece, where it met the table, and whittled down the material connecting the wheel to the bowl. Jack stopped kicking the wheel, letting it come to a halt. In the meantime, he grabbed a wire fastened to two small pieces of wood. He loosened his shoulders and cracked his neck. Just as he was about to try to cut the base of the pot, he stopped himself.
Instead of rushing, he decided to see Felix work. As he approached, he noticed that the man was making a bowl. Jack wondered if it was a coincidence or if the old man had chosen to make a bowl on purpose to help him.
Even though, at first, the wheel throwing had seemed so fast and magical, now that Jack had tried it himself, he could see just how slowly the old man worked. How could something feel so slow and fast at the same time? As he kept watching, he realized that the old man never went back, nor did he ever make a mistake. That’s why it felt fast.
As he arrived at the end of the throw, the old man grabbed a pointy bone. It wasn’t like the standard equipment made available in the workshop to all potters. This was an item that the old man owned.
“Triceratops serratus’ horn. Grants a bonus to crafting,” the old man said.
Does this man have eyes on the back of his neck? thought Jack.
Felix grabbed a wire. Instead of the normal wire that Jack borrowed from the workshop, this one was golden and fastened to two ornamented pieces of ivory.
“Always hold the cutting wire like this,” the man explained. “Press it down with your thumbs, and run it through, keeping it tight and straight.” The base of the clay was separated from the base of the pot, and he put it away next to several others. He grabbed another lump of clay and wedged it, just as he had taught Jack.
Jack raced to his workstation and carefully imitated the old man’s technique using the wire. Slowly, he cut it and finally finished shaping a bowl!
Congratulations! You’ve thrown a [Stoneware Bowl]!
+70XP to [Pottery]
“Wow! The XP is so much better than if I had pinched it! Is it because I used the wheel?”
Jack set the pot aside to dry. Seeing that Felix had finished wedging the lump of clay, Jack approached and pulled up a chair. “Mind if I sit and watch?”
“Be my guest, friend.”
Jack sat and watched as Felix started working on a plate.