“Journal entry 6, 45th of Marapril, I have been in Hoagen for the last five days and I think I am finally going to stop by Darnell’s tavern before the streets get too busy this morning. It has been a few years since I last saw the lumbering oaf and he’d be cross with me if I didn't visit, I'm just avoiding it because he will try and get me drunk which I don't feel is a good idea. Especially with everything that has happened in the last week. I can't stop thinking about that damn dungeon and the fact I can feel the medallion in my pocket as I walk doesn’t help much. Frankly, I welcome the distraction if I'm being honest, otherwise I’d be thinking about the village.”

I close my journal, slipping it into my pack along with the charcoal pencil and start walking in the direction of the west wall. Hoagen is a walled city, not uncommon for most imperial cities, but I dislike them because the walls block the wind keeping the stink in. Thankfully most of the livestock is kept outside the walls, most. The west district always has the pungent smell of swine filth because one of the ranchers decided to buy up a section of houses and turn it into a mud run for his pigs about twenty years ago. Granted in the event the city gets sieged by anyone he will make a killing off of having the only fresh meat in the city, but that is a far-fetched scenario at best. I just think he doesn’t want to have to walk all the way to the pastures outside the walls every day and has the spare coin for the extra property tax.

Arriving outside the rustic looking building with dusty fogged windows and a wood awning that seems just about ready to collapse. I look up at the unswaying hanging sign engraved with the words “The Tipsy Boar” and a faded image of a pig lapping ale from a mug tipped over on the floor. Shaking my head slightly before I walk in. The double doors in the front are big and solid, knowing full well I would have trouble opening them I opt for the smaller hobbit-sized hatch cut into the right door. It swings open with a creak and I shut it behind me, trying not to think about how the knob is slightly sticky or how the air is sour with the smell of stale ale that will never leave since it's soaked into the floorboards.

“RENNIE!” I hear a jovial shout from across the room as I lock eyes with the bartender who's raising his hands in the air as if in celebration, Darnell is a tall skinny human with a well kept but graying goatee and shoulder length salt and pepper hair drawn behind his head in a short ponytail his features are soft but there is a rigidness behind his eyes that usually keeps people from getting too rowdy in his bar. Some of the patrons give a glance and I recognize a few from around town as night shift workers at the mills and stables as well as a couple off duty guards but they all go back to their drink and conversation rather quickly.

“Morning Darnell.” I say as I walk up to the bar and climb one of the taller stools that has a stepladder incorporated into it, seating myself I look at the rows of glassware and wooden mugs that line shelves behind the counter.

“I heard about what happened in your little village, I hope you and Mallary came up unscathed.” I just frown at the countertop and remove the chain with Mallary’s wedding band around my neck, gently setting it on the bar, forcing myself not to tear up when I look back at Darnell. He furrows his brow for a moment thinking and then his eyes widen in disbelief as he leans backward against the shelves making the glasses rattle slightly.

“I’m sorry Rennie, I didn’t know.” was all he said after letting out a deep sigh.

“It's alright Darnell, I didn’t expect you to.” I say as he walks over to an ale cask farthest left of the bar with two mugs and fills them to the brim. I know it's his most expensive ale and runs at a silver per drink. With the deftness of a well-seasoned bartender, he slides the mug across the countertop and it comes to a stop in front of me as I catch it.

“It’s on the House Rennie, To Mallary.” he says with a light but sad smile and lifts his mug, downing his drink.

“Why does he get a free drink and I don’t?” Asks a bald dwarf with a long braided beard sitting at the other end of the bar closest to the door. I can feel several eyes pointed in my direction as Darnell walks back over to my spot at the bar.

“Because your village wasn’t razed to the ground and wife murdered by goblins. Ask me for a free drink again tonight and I’ll double your tab.” All humor and friendliness was gone from Darnell's voice and the tavern went silent enough to hear the two cooks in the kitchen around the corner preparing food. The dwarf just let out a noncommittal “sorry” and looked down at his half empty mug. Shortly thereafter the conversation and laughter came back as the atmosphere returned.

“Is your brother still in business?” I ask Darnell who was idly polishing glasses and stacking mugs

“Yeah, need him for something? Darnell asks back with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, I need his opinion on a few things of an alchemical nature. Where is his shop again?”

“I can walk ya there, I haven't stopped by in a few days and need to make sure the daft fool hasn’t blown himself up. We can leave now if you want. “

“What about the bar?"

“It'll be fine, been teaching one of the lads in the back how to run it, never had kids of my own and I'm getting up in the years so I figured the extra help would be nice.”

“You are more gray than last I saw you.” my grin betraying the flat tone of my voice.

“And you're shorter than last I saw you.” He shoots back, silver tooth showing through his own wolfish grin.

“I’m ready when you are.” I say as I grab my necklace from the bar and put it back around my head, tucking the ring behind the collar of my shirt and hopping off the stool while Darnell passes the bald dwarf and comes out from around the bar heading for the door.

“SVENN, I’M HEADED OUT ON AN ERRAND WATCH THE BAR.” He calls out over the din of the tavern and a young looking orc with a chipped tusk rounds the corner while taking off a cream colored apron. I start to leave but turn and grab the untouched mug, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste so I place it on the bar next to the bald dwarf as I pass by, his confusion evident but he shrugs as he leaves my field of view.

“Oooh, that’s good.” I hear quietly from behind me as I walk through the door Darnell is holding open while gently shaking his head.

The walk was somewhat long as we made our way through the waking streets of the city. Soon it will be bustling with people running about their lives and stall vendors selling vegetables, fruit, and other assorted goods. We chat about small things along the way, the weather, how crops and livestock seem to be doing this year, the start of the Dire Ant breeding season. He also idly mentions how a few new dungeons have sprouted up in the region so I mention the one on the way to Hoagen but don’t elaborate past “it was a dungeon”. Arriving at his brother's shop in the east district of the city the sign placard nailed to the door is an engraved picture of a mortar and pestle with the symbol for Ignis underneath it, the universal symbol for an alchemist's shop. The red paint in the engraving of the flame is relatively new and so is the black lettering at the top “Erbs Herbs - Buy and Sell”

“New sign.” I say nonchalantly

“No, old sign, you just haven't visited in a while.”

“Fair.” is all I say as we open the door and a small copper bell rings with the motion of the door

“Good morning dear brother.” Darnell says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Good morning yourself.” Erb says with a sigh, “Hello Rennie, It's been what, five years?.”

“Somewhere around that, yeah.” The two of them are twins but their personalities are night and day at any point in time. If one is chipper the other seems to be down and vice versa, the only way to tell the difference between the two physically is that Erb is clean shaven with short hair and wears a pair of spectacles, he also doesn’t have a silver tooth from breaking up too many bar fights.

“I have something that may interest you.” I say as I sling the backpack off my shoulder and open the flap on top.

“Let's see it then.” Erb says in a slightly more upbeat tone than he used with his brother. I pull the bottle from my bag, the little Mote of Ignis inside spinning lazily from the movement as I place it on the small table where the trades and bartering happen. Erb's eyes light up as he sees the curious bottle and walks closer.

“May I?” he says gesturing to the bottle

“Be my guest.” I say and without hesitation he scoops it up, holding it to the lamp light pulling a magnifying glass from his pocket, and sliding different lenses made of wafer thin cuts of gemstones over the side closest to the bottle. “How did you get it in here with such a potent field of mana?”

“I didn’t, I received it from a dungeon.”

“Curious.”

“Received? Don't you mean took?" Darnell asks, furrowing his brow again.

“No, I mean received.” At this, both brothers turn to look at me and I pull the medallion from my pocket with a sigh.

“I also received this.” I say as I place the quietly humming quartz and wood coin on the table.

“Is that..” Darnell starts

“A singing medallion?” Erb finishes Darnell's question and grabs the medallion to examine it, not bothering to ask this time.

“I wanted to barter the bottle and Mote for a consultation on the medallion.”

“I can do that.” says Erb while holding the medallion up to his ear, eyes closed as he listens to its song. “Follow me to my work area.” he says as he briskly walks around the counter and opens a door to a well lit space, disappearing within where I can hear him clearing a space for some instruments.

“Please tell me you didn't make a contract with a dungeon.” Darnell had not taken his eyes off of me since I pulled out the medallion, his voice was an angry whisper.

“I didn’t, it just gave it to me along with the mote after I traded it for a bag of tea.”

“Dungeons don't just ‘give’ people things or trade, there has to be more to it.” His voice was still a whisper but not as angry.

“There is more to it, the dungeon can talk and its avatar is a human.” I say now locking eyes with him.

“Are you two going to join me or not?” Erb's voice sounded out around the corner.

“We'll talk about it more later.” I dismiss as I turn to walk around the counter and he follows behind me.

Inside Erb’s laboratory there were shelves of vials and bottles, drying racks, and planters full of herbs; and papers scattered alongside instruments with potion brewing supplies everywhere except the bed and nightstand in the back corner. I move a small, sturdy, looking box over to the counter and stand on it to see better. On the newly cleared counter space, Erb had the medallion sitting in the center of a flat circular copper dish with sigils of the four primordial elements inscribed in the cardinal directions. ignis at the North, aqua South, terra West, and aer East. Erb began rotating the dish under the medallion slowly until the whole thing begins to hum slightly and he pours a little bit of fine white powder in a circle around the medallion. Then spining the dish in the other direction until it begins to hum again, and he uses a black powder this time. The process repeats with alternating white and black powder. Until the dish is completely covered. He removes the medallion, placing it on the counter next to the dish.

”Rennie, if you don't mind my asking, what were the terms of the contract?” He says as he gently pours some water into the center of the dish.

“There weren't any, there wasn’t a contract.” He almost spills the water as I say this and he looks at me.

“What?”

“There wasn’t a contract.” I say again, slightly annoyed with having to repeat myself.

“Then how did you get the medallion?”

"That's a little difficult to explain without you thinking I'm insane.” I say and look back at Darnell then to the dish with the black and white rings of powder. Erb frowns but looks back at the dish as well.

“The Mote Ignis is from the same dungeon correct?”

“Yes.” I say as he begins to uncork the stopper on the bottle, as he does the mana within is released, with an audible sound like a very low whistle. The herbs in Erb's planters begin growing rapidly as the mana quickly fills the room, then dissipates.

“Well, that was unexpected, how much mana was in this thing?” Erb says as he looks down at the bottle in disbelief.

“aren't you supposed to be the expert here?” Darnell says with a small shake of his head and a grin, Erb just frowns at him as he places a thick leather mitten on his hand and dumps the Mote into his palm, then leaning over to a stand on his left, he grabs a small scalpel with an obsidian blade almost dropping the mote in the process. After steadying himself he uses the scalpel to cut a small portion of the mote away from the main mass, the obsidian cutting through it like butter. After which he trades the scalpel for tweezers, placing the main portion back into the bottle and putting the stopper in it. Grabbing the tiny shard he had removed he dropped it into the water in the center of the dish while leaning back. All at once the water is flashed into steam and the powder begins to move in swirls, mixing itself into a slightly damp mass of now gray powder. Quickly removing the mitten he grabbed a scrap of blank paper and places it on a thin wood board, then grabs a charcoal pencil from his coat pocket, once the powder finished its mixing it began forming into the symbols of aspects.

First a small triangle with a sphere rising behind it, smaller and thinner triangles raising from the surface parallel with the first triangle, giving it the look of the sun rising behind a mountain, and next to the mini sculpture two straight lines formed.

“Vitas II, expected.” Erb mumbled to himself, writing it on his paper.

The powder collapsed and immediately began to reform, a sphere formed slowly carving itself deep eye sockets and a space where a nose would be, then finally a single row of lipless teeth, next to the jawless skull a single line formed.

“Mors I,”

This time it formed into the shape of a small flame and another single line formed next to it, the same as on the sign leading into the shop.

“Ah Ignis I.” The alchemist sounded delighted, I looked at him wondering if he was going to continue his narration the whole time; then looked back to the next forming shape.

A simple triangle, with a pair of lines bisecting it horizontally and a small sphere in front, wavy lines etched into its surface,

Two lines formed next to this one.

“Terra II.” Erb once again mumbled.

Next, all the dust formed into a large sphere, and cracks formed on its surface, from within the cracks a soft orange glow slowly faded in and out as if breathing.

“Amber orange attunement color.” This time Darnell spoke, “Not exactly rare but not very common if I remember right.” I already knew this but I'm fairly sure he only said it to annoy his brother, I didn’t look to see if he was grinning, but I did see Erbs' eye twitch as he was writing.

The sphere collapsed in on itself and the powder shuffled around a little and puffed a bit as if it was confused, getting a furrowed brow from Erb. Then finally after a few moments, the powder formed two orbs attached to sticks to imitate floating, the orbs were stacked vertically and then proceeded to morph together and pass through each other bouncing off of invisible walls and rebounding morphing and separating again before collapsing into just dust again. Erb just stood there looking slightly dumbfounded peering over his spectacles at the now inert powder and then at his paper

“Unknown miscellaneous attunement.”

“Unknown?” I ask

“I have been an alchemist for nearly thirty years now and I've done hundreds of consultations, I have never seen that before.”

“Was that it?” asks Darnell.

“No, the powder separates itself when it's done.” I say and look to Erb who is reaching for the medallion.

“Vertical first” I say, looking at him

“Whatever the customer wants.” He says with a shrug, holding the coin vertically over the dust as it begins forming into a cylinder and then it sheers off eight faces into itself”

“Octagonal Cylinder attunement shape.” he says as he puts down the medallion and writes the words down on the paper. Grabbing the medallion again he holds it above the powder, this time with one of the faces towards the dish, the dust slowly forms into a very detailed statue of a human wearing strange clothes, the sleeves of his jacket are rolled to just above his elbows and his arms are crossed, there is a thick bushy beard on his face partially covering a large jagged scar across his right cheek. The eyes are piercing and dark, with a stare that seems to pass through you. Erb looking confused, twists the medallion vertically and the statue falls, reforming into an octagon again, He flips the coin over to its other face and the powder reforms the small human statue once more for a few moments before falling on its own and the powder begins separating itself, forming balls of black and white powder until there are two separate piles on either end of the tray.

“What?” Erb says as he looks at me incredulously. ”How… Who?" Now looking back at the copper dish. “When I send the report for this to the capital they are going to think I'm insane and I'll lose my license.” he finally said, rubbing the bridge of his nose as I grab the medallion that's now back on the counter and push it into my pocket.

“At best they will ignore it, at worst they'll come and scry your consulting medium. As long as you haven't done any consultations and not reported them you’ll be fine.”I say as I clap him on the shoulder. "It's me who'll have the headache since it's my medallion.