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Chapter 3.45 - Thim

Theo dodged a downpour of questions from Throk, running from the center of town with the Marshling in pursuit. He lost him behind the town hall, circled around, and found his way to the new butcher’s building without incident. The old man would refuse to accept the new building, so it was best to leave him to it. In time, he’d accept the gift and use it to better the town. That was the way things always went with the codger.

The new building rested near the Adventurer’s Guild, across the road from the sawmill. It took the form of a wood slat building with a blue shingled roof, matching the spreading motif of the town. The entire thing was quaint, but Whisper had settled into it as though it were her home. Theo found her butchering the bodies of several wolves, even displaying skill in skinning them. She had a sad smile on her face when he entered, but bowed her head as a greeting.

“Mayor,” she said simply, resuming her bloody work.

“Still too hot for ya?” Theo asked.

“It’s all this fur,” Whisper said, looking down at her body. Under her bloody apron was fur matted with gore. It marred the interesting mottled patterns of brown and gray.

“We’ll have Sledge install this properly,” Theo said, withdrawing the air conditioner from his inventory. That caught the woman’s interest. “I worked with the blacksmith to get you more comfortable. I understand the home of the Toora is quite cold.”

“Frigid,” Whisper said. She dropped her cleaver and moved over, hands reverently stroking the artifice.

“I don’t have a sales pitch,” Theo said with a weak shrug. This entire plan was half-baked from the start. A need for comfort with no obvious solution. “I just want you to tell everyone how great the air conditioner is, so Throk can sell more.”

“Conditioner?” Whisper asked. “What condition does it put the air into?”

“It’s just a box that blows cold air,” Theo said, flicking the switch on the side. He had it set to the lowest setting, which would provide a drip of potion every half-hour. The alchemist explained the controls and provided a flask of modified [Freeze Solution].

“This is amazing,” Whisper said, standing in front of the artifice and closing her eyes. “I was planning to leave the town… The heat is just too much. I can purchase more from the angry Marshling?”

“Yeah, and stop by The Newt and Demon if you need more of the potion,” Theo said. “It’s cheap to make, but this should last you a while.”

“I’m going to turn it all the way up,” Whisper said, cranking the knob on the side. “I shall purchase more.”

Problem solved. It had been a long time since Theo could fix an issue with so little effort. Whisper was hot, so he cooled her down. But the problem he solved wasn’t the one he set out to solve. Sledge was the issue. Her need for experience outweighed the need for comfort, even if the two goals were aligned. As much as the alchemist didn’t want to deal with the erratic Marshling, now was the time. He left the butcher and made his way over to the sawmill.

Sledge was more like Nira than Theo realized. He’d assumed most in Broken Tusk would bungle a job involving organizing people, but she was doing great. The Marshling had everyone outside of her mill, directing them for their daily tasks. Her team had grown significantly, resulting in a tightly packed crowd, compared to the earlier scatter of folks. It was a sight that warmed the alchemist’s heart. Anything that required less of his touch made him happy.

“And, you’re off!” Sledge shouted. “Make mama proud!”

Theo winced. She was still weird.

“Everything going well, Sledge?” Theo asked, approaching the glowering woman.

“Fine as ever,” Sledge said. “Got these mud-sucking Pozwa broken into a command structure. The business just runs itself!”

“Do you have enough time to work on your [Fabricator’s Core]?” Theo asked.

“Plenty. Been doing minor upgrades for townsfolk. Trying to get my next skill. You know how it goes,” Sledge said.

The biggest surprise was that she wasn’t mad. It was easy to feel as though these people fell off Theo’s radar, falling into obscurity. With so many things to do in town, that wouldn’t be a lie. But that was the point. These people needed to build their businesses up on their own, running them in whatever way they saw fit. The stars of the town were Ziz, Nira, Sledge, and Gridgen. All required no guidance and produced vast quantities of resources.

“Once you get a decent skill, let me know,” Theo said. “Until then, talk to Throk. He’s going to have air conditioners for you to install.”

“Air what?”

A quick explanation of climate control saw the Marshling’s head nodding. Southlanders didn’t mind the heat, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t enjoy something to cool their homes. With a boatload of elves on the way, that just brought the problem into focus. Theo chatted with her for a while about her operation. The man she elected to carry the [Forester’s Core] was getting better by the day. Regeneration rates of the famed Ogre Cypress trees were increasing, and the quality of the wood was better. Sledge claimed it was better, anyway. To Theo, every perfect quality board looked the same.

“You don’t see the knots?” Sledge scoffed. “Look at the difference!”

The alchemist nodded. The two boards she held up looked the same. “I see it now,” he lied.

Departing from Sledge’s, Theo realized he had to face Throk. If he wanted some fancy Drogramathi Iron containment cores, he’d need to take a lashing.

“Always better to ask for forgiveness,” Theo said, approaching the angry Marshling.

“There’s no forgiveness for you, alchemist,” Throk grunted. But he didn’t look up from his work. He was fiddling with some artifice components from the Southblade Guardian, something that was still lingering outside the eastern gate.

“I thought you’d like a fancy new workshop,” Theo said.

“Yeah, well… You didn’t ask. I’m not broke.”

“You sure act like you’re broke,” Theo said. That statement got a steely glare from the man. “Keep it up, and I’ll hire another blacksmith.”

Throk couldn’t hide the interest on his face. He looked up from the cogwork, knitting his brow. “That might work.”

“You’re supposed to take apprentices,” Theo said. “Train them up so they can do what you do.”

Throk grunted. “The only one with potential is that kid.” He jabbed his finger at a small, bearded man. He looked like a man to Theo, anyway. Must’ve been a Dwarf.

“A new arrival?” Theo asked. He didn’t remember seeing the person in town.

“As new as they come,” Throk said. He turned, raising his voice to his sheepish apprentices. All but the Dwarf flinched. “I’m about to fire every one of you! Except Thim!”

“Yeah, we all love Thim,” Theo said, craning his neck to get a better look. The young Dwarf was grinning. “Thim, care to take a walk with me?”

“Don’t you poach my only good apprentice, Theo,” Throk said, leveling his gaze at the alchemist. “I’ll take your damn legs.”

“I won’t. Promise,” Theo said, beckoning for the Dwarf to follow.

Like most Dwarves, Thim was a study thing. A head of brown hair, concealed under a green cloak, with a massive brown beard. Bushy eyebrows, slate-gray eyes, and features as hard as stone. Theo led the Dwarf behind his lab, collecting vegetation for his next experiment. After his talk with the new blacksmith, he’d convince Throk to make him a new containment core.

“Whatever you’ve heard of the Rhomthrong is shit,” Thim said, watching as Theo trimmed his garden. “We’re sturdy folk, make no mistake. Honest and hardworking as any. I’ve already been through the ringer with your functionaries. They like me.”

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“When you give someone a chance to talk without asking a question,” Theo said, tossing a thick patch of weeds into a pile, “they often tell you what they’re most afraid of being asked.”

“Aren’t you just a regular damn philosopher,” Thim said, scoffing. “Care to read my palm while you’re at it?”

Thim would fit in with the Marshlings and Half-Ogres well. A hard edge would take him far here.

“I’ll just say I don’t know where Rhomthrong is. Or what people live there,” Theo said. “I know hard work when I see it. I know potential.”

“Good for you.”

“If Throk says you’re any good, then you’re good,” Theo said. “The man wouldn’t even take his own son into the shop. The boy works the river now.”

While it was still new to Theo, the stronger his connection to the Tara’hek realm got, the more he could feel other realms. The Dwarf held a flavor he couldn’t recognize, something cold like the mountains, but as fiery as the forge. He either had a contradictory set of cores, or his main core was just that way. A split between those two concepts—likely a Dwarven god. Thim was silent.

Zarali could throw out some magical sense, feeling people around her. Theo knew how to inspect people, but his senses were clumsy. He focused on the Dwarf’s chest and forced his will inside. Thim flinched as though an icy hand had reached out to grasp at his heart.

“Borhig, right?” Theo asked after a time. His senses didn’t tell him the deity the Dwarf was under. “Dwarven God of Blacksmithing. Is that correct?”

“Obvious guess, but yeah,” Thim said.

“I’m still working on that,” Theo said. “This might seem like a confrontation, but I just wanted to make sure you’re up for the job. Throk is over-worked. I can’t rely on having a single blacksmith in town, and you look like the man for the job. You’re not an apprentice, though.”

“Not by a long shot,” Thim said, shifting on the spot uncomfortably.

Theo produced a [Drogramathi Iron Ingot] from his inventory, walking over and handing it to the Dwarf. “Are you familiar with this?”

Thim narrowed his eyes. “Demon metal. Strong as the mines are deep. Never seen an ingot. Never seen a scrap that wasn’t pulled off some Dronon’s corpse.”

“Exactly,” Theo said, back to his pruning. “I have a theory that the only Demon-aligned metal is produced by Zagmon’s brood.”

Thim flinched at the mention of the Demonic God of War and Death.

“That would be my experience.”

So the Dwarves had some in-built hatred for Zagmon. Every gentle race that walked the planet should have a hate for that guy, from what Theo had heard so far.

“I need you to make me something from the ingot,” Theo said, finalizing his pile of debris. He explained the containment core and its purpose. Thim nodded the entire time, asking for more details but seemingly satisfied with the job. The alchemist reached out a hand for the Dwarf to shake, which he did. “Theo Spencer.”

“Thimamuri Ironmoore,” Thim said, nodding. “Since you’ve riddled my core out…”

A blazing furnace emerged from nowhere. It was dark black with a roaring fire resting in the mouth. A moment later, an equally dark anvil sprung from the ground to join it. Without missing a beat, Thim nestled the ingot into the coals and urged his magic furnace to go to work. Within several minutes and exactly four swift strikes of a hammer, the Dwarf produced a perfect containment core made from the Demonic iron.

“Sometimes you need to bring the forge and anvil to you,” Thim said, flashing a grin.

Theo inspected the item.

[Drogramathi Iron Containment Core]

[Containment Core]

Quality: Perfect

A containment core used for the production of constructs and golems. It is made of Drogramathi Iron.

The alchemist mentally severed his connection with one [Lesser Mud Golem], making room for his new golem, and suspended a level 10 [Monster Core] inside. He removed a bottle of [Infuse Essence] from his inventory and treated the core. Thim watched as he inserted a [Mana Construct] and the core into the pile of vegetation. After adding the smallest amount of mana, the pile of plant matter twisted to life. The Dwarf jumped back in surprise.

“Collect the fully cultivated plants and deposit them into that crate. Restore your mana with that one,” Theo said, inspecting the creature as it lumbered off.

[Lesser Plant Golem]

[Alchemy Construct]

Level 10

Plant Golems excel at tending to the natural world, while also having mild combat capabilities.

Containment Core: [Alchemically Treated Drogramathi Iron Cage]

Monster Core: [Fald Interloper] (Level 10)

Medium: [Plant Matter]

Alchemy Slates: [Mana Construct]

Power System: [Mana Construct]

Siphon System: None

Additional Modifications: None

This was much like the example Theo made in the Dreamwalk, only with a different core. From an outsider’s perspective, the difference wouldn’t be obvious. But even without connecting the golem to the lodestone network, the alchemist felt far less pull on his mind. It made sense, since the containment core acted as the creature’s brain. With better materials, that brain became more capable. ‘Smarter’ wasn’t the right term to describe it—they weren’t intelligent. It simply reduced the load on his mind.

Theo flicked the Dwarf a gold coin, judging that the amount of Drogramathi Iron left was enough for 9 more cores. “9 more of those, please.”

“Alright,” Thim said, loosening his shoulders. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

The Dwarf made quick work of the other containment cores, making it look like a joke. He might have been young, by Dwarven standards, but he was incredibly skilled. Theo knew that Throk could have run circles around him, but there was hope for Broken Tusk to have another skilled blacksmith.

“Take your time with Throk,” Theo said, watching as the Dwarf dismissed his forge and anvil. “You don’t need his blessing to work in town, but you don’t want to be without it.”

“I’ll admit. The asshole is already growing on me. Reminds me of home,” Thim said, bidding farewell.

Another job done. Theo stood in the cluster of greenhouses for a while, only moving to check on the cultivating Zee. It had a few more days of growth left before he could send it back to Banu. That only left one more thing to do for the farm before he’d be satisfied, and several more items to accomplish for the shipyard to be functional.

“Medieval ships,” Theo said, patting the egg at his side. “We’ll need more than wood and cloth to make that work.”

Another problem for another day.

No one seemed to want to bother Theo today, and he was happier for it. He ordered his golems back to the Newt and Demon and replaced them all with better versions of themselves. The team of golems working the marsh was reduced to 3 [Lesser Mud Golems] and 2 [Lesser Stone Golems]. He experimented with different metals for his metal golems, but found even regular iron to be too difficult. The alchemist defaulted back to copper, something he knew would work. It took a while to adjust the lodestone network in town, but by the end of it he had his team.

2 [Lesser Plant Golems] would work the greenhouses night and day. 3 [Lesser Mud Golems] accompanied by 2 [Lesser Stone Golems] for the swamp, and 3 [Lesser Copper Golems] to run around the mine and along the walls.

Upon returning to the Newt and Demon, Theo had a chat with Salire about how her plan was coming along. Azrug had completely abandoned the shop, all his time going toward trade efforts, so he wasn’t interested in buying up the excess gear. The new shopkeeper was happy about that, giving her time to gain confidence in haggling with the growing population of adventurers in town. She’d already made a stack of gold coins, and the alchemist encouraged her to go wild.

But it was Theo’s ideal day. No one came to disturb him when he worked the stills. He created an array of essences that would work for Salire’s new plan. With enough excess [Manashrooms], he even distilled some [Refined Mana Essence]. Xol’sa might be happy about that. The key was to have enough essences on hand, without making too much wastage. If people came in asking for something he didn’t have, that would be a waste of time.

All thoughts of time wasted went away when Theo’s core conspired against him. Before midday, his [Drogramath Herbalism Core] went up to level 16. Then, in the early afternoon his [Governance Core] hit 15. Since the [Drogramath Alchemy Core] didn’t want to be left out, it hit 17. This caused a cascading effect that sent Theo’s personal level to 16. He didn’t want to rush his free attribute distribution, so he sat near his opened window and consulted his attribute sheet before deciding.

Belgar (Theo Spencer)

Drogramath Dronon

Level 16

Alchemist

Core Slots: 4

Stats:

Health: 100

Mana: 140

Stamina: 110

Strength: 20 (+11)

Dexterity: 16 (+8)

Vigor: 19 (+8)

Intelligence: 21 (+7)

Wisdom: 27 (+7)

Points: 1

Another point in [Wisdom] wouldn’t hurt, but it seemed a shame to leave [Vigor] out of the game. Theo had a strange spread of stats. The [Tara’hek Core] gave him more [Strength] and [Vigor] than he should normally have, resulting in a mash of stats. The first idea he had for point distribution was just to pump everything into [Wisdom] and ignore everything else. Now that he had cores supporting his attributes, it made more sense to get them to the thresholds then move on.

Theo reminded himself of the rules of the system, starting with the threshold of attributes. Stats got a boost in effectiveness every 10 points he put in. Whether that was points applied, or the total for that attribute was beyond him. Every personal level he got a point. Every 5 personal levels he got a skill point. When a core hit a multiple of 10, it got a free skill specific to that core. The growth of attributes attached to cores was entirely random, but seemed to be every 5 levels. All this thought just brought him back to putting [Vigor] over the 20 point threshold, so he put in his point.

It was hard to judge if he felt healthier after applying the point. But he could feel something, as though he had more energy to spare. Not just in that his stamina had gone up to 115 from 110, but something more base about his body. The alchemist shrugged it off, turning his attention to the organizational mess of his lab. It was time to separate his [Dimensional Storage Crates] out to make more sense. That’s the only way Salire’s plan would work.