Prezon shook her head in disbelief as I set the six owlbear eyes, each the size of a softball, in a neat row on her desk.
"You killed three owlbears... with a dagger?"
I put on a knowing grin and tapped my forehead. "Didn't really need the dagger. Just basic ingenuity."
“That's amazing," she said. "Our divination wizards will be very pleased. At eight gold per eye, that's 48 gold.”
I took Prezon's coin and placed it in my purse. It was more than enough to buy the snakeskin armor from Orla.
"That's an awful lot of money," I said. "Do you have any free time to help me spend it?"
"I'm still very busy," Prezon said, "but now that you're following a deity, we can train you in alchemy. Basic training costs 15 gold."
I nodded and handed the coins to Prezon, who turned to the crystal ball on her desk. She drew elaborate patterns on its surface with two fingers.
“Avogor?” Prezon asked. “Are you there?”
The crystal ball glowed, projecting the voice of an annoyed old man. “Yes. What do you want?”
“The adventurer who retrieved the recipe book from Lessel seeks basic alchemy training. Can you spare a moment?”
“I suppose. Send him to my office.”
⚔
Avogor was a bald man with bushy eyebrows and a robe the color of aquamarine. His office was dominated by a desk covered with roots, weeds, and open books. The corners were occupied by gardens of carefully ordered flowers and mushrooms.
“Please sit down, young man. Before we begin, can you read magic?”
“No. I tried to read Lessel’s recipe book, but I couldn’t make out a word.”
“Very well.” Avogor touched my forehead with the ring finger of his right hand. “How about now?”
He turned one of the books toward me, and to my amazement, the glyphs swirled around, transforming into regular letters. After catching my breath, I smiled.
“Perfectly clear.”
“Splendid. Now let’s discuss alchemy. There are three types of potions—simple, intermediate, and advanced. For simple potions, the only equipment you need are a mortar and pestle, and the only ingredients required are two flowers and a mushroom cap. Place the ingredients in the mortar, grind them with the pestle, and pour the grounds into a flask of water. Understand?”
“Could you demonstrate?”
“Of course. For a Potion of Lesser Stoneskin, I’ll need a blue orchid, a white aster, and a green bell mushroom.”
Avogor went to his garden and plucked a white star-shaped flower, a blue flower with small, round leaves, and a mushroom cap covered with green dots. He put the ingredients in the mortar and spent at least a minute grinding them into mush. Then he poured the mixture into a flask of water, which quickly turned green.
“You can tell if a potion was created successfully by its color. If it doesn’t take the color of the mushroom cap, the concoction failed.”
Avogor drank the green fluid, waited a moment, and then pulled back the sleeve of his robe to reveal a pale, bony forearm.
“Touch it!”
I touched the alchemist’s forearm, furtively at first and then with greater pressure. His skin was as hard as a turtle's shell.
Avogor smiled. “Stoneskin potions are great for rogues who can’t wear heavy armor, as well as for wizards who can’t wear armor at all. I saw Kazerath drink one of his potions of Greater Stoneskin, and he might as well have worn plate mail.”
“That’s amazing,” I said. “Where I can get the recipes and equipment?”
Avogor went to his shelf and handed me a mortar and a pestle. He also gave me rust-colored book whose title read The Elements of Alchemy.
“We give this to our trainees. Inside, you’ll find recipes for potions that heal, protect, cure poison, and allow you to breathe underwater.”
I paged the book and saw recipes for potions of Lesser Healing, Water Breathing, Lesser Stoneskin, and Cure Poison. Instructions were listed on the left with diagrams of the brewing process on the right. As Avogor said, the only equipment needed was a mortar and pestle.
“Thank you," I said. "Where can I find ingredients?”
“You’ll find plenty of flowers and mushrooms in nearby forests as well as the Baildril. But we grow our own ingredients on the premises. Five copper for a flower, one silver for a mushroom, and two silver for a flask of water.”
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I flipped through the pages of the book, looking at the different potions and their ingredients. Considering how little money I had left, I decided to focus on three of the potions.
“I’d like to buy ingredients for the potions of Lesser Healing, Lesser Stoneskin, and Cure Poison. I’d also like eight flasks of water.”
⚔
The sun had nearly set by the time I left the Enclave, so I returned to my room at the Groaning Gorgon and laid out my ingredients on the bed. I decided to start with potions of Lesser Healing, which restored between 4 and 10 health points. It wasn't much for most characters, but for a low-level rogue, one potion could save my life.
Each Potion of Lesser Healing required a redcap mushroom, an azalea, and a yellow violet. I ground the ingredients in the mortar, but when I poured the muck into the flask, the water thickened into a brownish sauce that smelled like rancid eggs. That's what a failed potion looks like. Lesson learned.
For my second attempt, I spent more time pulverizing the ingredients, and I kept grinding until the goo had a consistent appearance and texture. This time, when I poured the grounds into the flask, the water turned bright red.
As I continued, I thought about my plans for the following day. I needed to slay the wolves in the Southern Forest, but I couldn’t fight them up close with Ebonclaw. I needed a ranged weapon, and that meant paying a visit to Orla.
To my relief, I mixed the rest of the potions without making any more mistakes. After four potions of Lesser Healing, I made two potions of Lesser Stoneskin by grinding green bell mushrooms, blue orchids, and white asters. Then I concocted a Potion of Cure Poison by grinding a brown angel mushroom, a hyacinth, and a purple crocus.
Before I lay down to rest, I brought up my character sheet and smiled at my new Alchemy skill, which had risen to Level 3.
Dylan, Level 3 follower of Motiacca
XP: 4,950 out of 5,000, Health: 18 out of 18, Mana: 9 out of 9, Stamina: 16 out of 16
Coin: 27 gold, 4 silver
Weapons: Ebonclaw (+4/+6 with specialization)
Armor: Padded leather
Skills: Stealth – 2, Acrobatics – 6, Locks and Traps – 5, Dagger – 4, Alchemy – 3
Abilities: Dark Vision, Weapon specialization: Dagger
Quests: FIND THE MEDALLION OF DARNOK
⚔
I entered Orla’s shop as soon as it opened. I set twenty gold coins on the counter and pointed to the far wall.
“I’d like that magnificent suit of armor, if you please.”
“Very well.”
Orla smiled as she handed me the snakeskin armor, though she seemed disappointed to part with it. I could see why. She’d done a flawless job at stitching the green-and-black scales to the leather, and it was the finest suit of armor I’d seen since entering the game.
“I’d also like to buy a crossbow. Something reliable, not heavy.”
Orla went to one of her shelves in the back and returned with a crossbow slightly longer than my forearm.
“This will cost eight silver. A case of ten bolts will cost four.”
“Sounds reasonable. How much does rope cost?”
“A ten-foot length costs one silver coin.”
I thought about what I’d need to fight a pack of wolves. I opened my purse and set down 25 gold coins, nearly everything I had.
“I’ll take your light crossbow, thirty bolts, and five lengths of rope.”
Orla’s eyes widened for a moment, and then she fetched the items and placed them on the counter. Then a thought occurred to me.
“I’ve never fired a crossbow. Do you know anyone who can teach me how to use it?”
Orla snorted. “Any halfwit can use a crossbow, but if you need an expert, I can teach you the basics. Two gold.”
I followed Orla outside toward the rear of her shop. With a piece of chalk, she drew a circle on the wall about the size of a human head. Then she stepped twenty paces away.
“There are only three steps to remember, and the first is to pull back the prod.”
Holding the crossbow against her hip, Orla yanked back the drawstring and fit it around a notch in the crossbow’s body.
“Second, load the bolt.”
Orla took a bolt from the first case and placed it in the groove that ran along the length of the crossbow.
“Third, aim and fire.”
Orla took a moment to line up the bolt with the chalk target. Then she released the trigger and the bolt struck the center of the circle. She smiled.
“Simple enough?”
“Just pull, load, and fire.”
Orla handed me the crossbow. “Your turn.”
The prod was stiffer than I’d expected, but I pulled it back without too much difficulty. I loaded a bolt, aimed at the circle, and released the trigger. The bolt flew high, striking the wall a hand’s breadth above the circle’s top.
“Loosen your arm when you aim, and before you pull the trigger, point your index finger at your target. The bolt will follow.”
I nodded, pulled back the prod, and loaded another bolt. Before firing, however, I cleared my throat.
“The Enclave wants wolf fangs for their potions, so I’m headed to the Southern Forest. Do you have any advice?”
I pointed my index finger at the circle’s center. This time, when I pulled the trigger, the bolt struck the circle’s perimeter, about 45 degrees from its apex.
“Plenty of wolves in the Southern Forest, and they tend to form two kinds of packs. The smaller packs have about six wolves, and those are wolves you can fight. The larger packs are led by a dire wolf. Those are wolves you don’t fight. When you see a dire wolf, run.”
“They’re that strong?”
“More than just strong. They’re smart—much smarter than regular wolves. When a wolf chases prey, it becomes so obsessed that it stops thinking. But dire wolves have ice water flowing through their veins. One dire wolf trailed a squad of the King’s guard for nearly a day, never making a sound. But as soon as the guardsmen set up camp and took off their armor, it leapt on them, killing all but two.”
I shook my head, impressed. Then I pulled back the drawstring, loaded another bolt, and aimed. The bolt landed inside the circle, striking halfway between its center and the bottom edge.
“Not bad,” Orla said. “You’ll need more practice, but there’s nothing more I can teach you. One last word of advice. Wolves are sacred to Venabel, and she won’t take kindly to an adventurer killing her cherished beasts. Be wary.”
I thanked Orla for her help, and she returned to her shop. I spent the rest of the early afternoon trying to hit the center of the circle. Pull, load, fire. Pull, load, fire.