by Deck Davis
Recipe Book added to inventory!
Alchemist’s toolset added to inventory!
Would you like to add healing potion to recipe book? [Current total: 0/2]
Cason had told him to be careful which recipes he added to his book, and he saw the sense in that. With limited slots, there was no point committing some potion to it that he’d hardly use. That said, he was going to have to fight a lot in his time in Sarametis so cheaper healing potions would come in handy. He selected yes.
Healing potion added to recipe book! [Current total: 1/2]
Healing potion ingredient cost reduced by 50%!
Healing potion brewing time reduced by 25%!
As they left the house, Jake looked at the poles again. The family weren’t nailed to them anymore; he and Faei had buried what was left of their sorry corpses.
Instead, the man and his goblins were nailed up. They were naked and smeared with berries that Jake had found in a jar in the kitchen. Hopefully, the scent of the berries would draw out whatever creatures lived in the woods.
“You goddamned heckers! Shitmongers! Pissbuckets!” shouted the man. “I’ll find you, you know. You can’t hide from me. Think I can’t get off this thing?” he said. He tried to move his arm that had been nailed into the wood.
“Seems that way to me, you jizzcock,” said Jake. “It’ll be a long death for you. While you die, you can look at the graves over there. Remember that family? Think about them when the bears start nibbling on your tiny privates.”
Chapter Nine
“Damn,” said Faei, when they were an hour away from the house. “I thought Cason had dark tendencies, but you’re something else. Is every alchemist like that? Is being an absolute sadist an alchemist thing?”
“No idea,” said Jake. “I’ve only met one until now. And yeah, he’s a real asshole. You don’t feel bad about this, do you?”
“No chance. He deserved it.”
“So, you know I’m an alchemist. What’s your class?” he asked.
“Spectral archer.”
Jake waited for her to elaborate, but Faei evidently thought that would be enough to explain it to him. “And that means….”
“I keep forgetting you don’t know anything. It means I’m good with a bow, for one thing. More importantly, I can imbue my bolts with mana.”
“So you can shoot magic?”
“Kind of. I can add elemental energy to my bolts. If we come across something made of ice, I’ll shoot a fire bolt up its bum. That kind of thing.”
Jake felt like something had changed between them. That they’d grown a little closer through dealing with the barbarian and his goblins. He decided to push his luck by asking her something. Not about the moss on her neck, but something else.
“Faei, I hope this doesn’t come across as insensitive, but what happened to your fingers?”
Faei held up her left hand and studied it with mock concentration. “They seem fine to me,” she said.
“Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.”
This time, she held up her right hand. “No, it’s okay. Cason is trying to cure the demogoth infection, and he needed to work on live infected tissue. He waits for me to turn and then takes a sample. It was just skin, at first, but then he needed something more substantial. Don’t worry, I agreed to it.”
“And it doesn’t bother you? I mean…you’re letting yourself get mutilated.”
“At least it feels like I’m doing something,” said Fay. “Every day I spend in Cason’s shack, I leave my parents alone with their infection. And every single day, it gets less likely anyone will be able to cure them. I mean, I know there’s nothin’ I can do if I go back to the village, and that my time is better spent helping Cason find a cure. Still, it makes me feel bad I’m not there for them. So, if I have to lose a finger or two…so be it.”
“You shouldn’t feel bad. If you’d stayed in your village you would have gotten worse, right? And Cason wouldn’t have someone to study, so there’d be nobody trying to find a cure.”
“Yeah I know. It’s just when I think about mother and father back in the village…”
“Are they…completely changed now?”
“The changes used to be for half an hour a night. Then an hour. It kept getting longer. I’d guess right about now they’ll be in demogoth form for days at a time. I couldn’t bring myself to go look.”
“So why don’t they, you know, leave the village in demogoth form? I thought it made you want to kill stuff?”
“Cason set runes around the village warding them in. Guess it means they’re confined and can’t hurt themselves. If most people saw a demogoth coming at them, they’d attack on sight. They wouldn’t stop to think that there’s a person beneath the infection.”
“I’ll help you,” said Jake. “I’m not sure how yet, but I’ll do my best.”
As Jake uttered the words, he got three alerts, one after the other.
Creative kill exp bonus!
120% Exp!
Level up to level 3
-HP increased to 172
-Stamina increased to 209
-Recipe slot page! Total: 3
This meant only one thing; the creatures in the forest had crept out from the shadows and had devoured the barbarian and his goblin lovers while they were tied to the poles. Since Jake and Faei had been the ones to tie them there, not only did they get the satisfaction of restoring a little karma to the universe, but they also earned lovely exp.
He’d expected the HP and stamina increases, but the recipe slot was unexpected. He’d thought that after getting the book, he’d go through some kind of weird alchemist initiation, like maybe he and Carson would have to slaughter a goat and dance naked around a fire.
Instead, when he opened the wooden book and turned the cloth pages, he saw his name written inside. Not only that, but three pages were free for him to turn. The first page listed the recipe for a healing potion, but the other two were blank.
So, he was a real alchemist, it seemed. How about that? He had a recipe book and alchemy tools. Now all he needed to know was what the heck to do with them. He’d get Cason to show him some more recipes, but this time, he’d make sure it was something interesting. Healing potions were great and all, but he wanted something a little more…deadly.
After shutting the book and spending his new attribute points on intelligence and luck, he journeyed back to the hut.
When they climbed the hill and reached Cason’s house, Jake pushed open the door. He heard a gasp, and then when he looked at the far end corner where Cason slept, he let out a gasp of his own.
Cason was beneath the sheets. He was naked judging by the curls grey hairs of his chest that were on show. On either side of him were two women less than half his age. Their cheeks were flushed red.
“Jake, what a pleasure. Didn’t expect you back so soon,” said Cason. “Off you go, ladies. Time for me to be the master alchemist again.”
As the ladies, one with long blonde hair, the other a redhead with short locks, got dressed, Jake stood over Cason’s bed. The alchemist didn’t bother to dress, instead he leaned back in a relaxed pose. Jake half expected him to pull out a cigarette and light it. He looked so pleased with himself that it made Jake grit his teeth.
“I suppose you knew nothing about the goblin banger who lived in the house?” asked Jake.
“What the hell are you talking about? Come on boy, don’t look so glum. You have your book, don’t you?”
“I do. And its time you started showing me some real alchemy. No more health potion bullshit.”
“Ah, so you’re done with nappies and you’re ready to move onto big boy pants, are you?” said Cason. When he sat up, Jake saw that he had love bites all over his neck. “Well, let’s see about that then.”
Chapter Ten
“Okay you god-damned, lovable, little pest,” said Cason, the next morning. “You nagged me and nagged me and nagged me, and now I’m gonna show you a recipe or two just so I c
an get some peace and quiet.”
“Praise God and halleluiah. Finally,” said Jake.
“Get your sorry excuse for a toolset together and stand by the counter. I have shit to do today. A farmer out west wants a potion for his prize bull, the thing can’t get its cock up. So, hurry yourself over there.”
Jake stood by the counter with his scalpel, burn torch and pincers laid out. Cason had insisted on him going out to pick the herbs he would need, giving him only the most basic of instructions. Jake had spent hours screwing around in the fields, searching for the elusive little herbs and using his gauge skill to make sure he had the right ones.
Gauge skill upgraded to level 3!
- Property identify inc to 2/50
- Herb lore inc to 2/50
His improved gauge skill not only helped him find the correct herbs quicker, but it also gave him added information on them. Now, when he looked at an herb, he not only saw what basic effects it could have, but it also told him the quality of an herb.
Patientiam Herb
Properties: Regeneration Stamina, Health, Mana
Ingredient quality: 60%
Using this, he made sure to find the best herbs he could. The problem was that in the fields near the hut, the best he could find were ones with a quality of around seventy. It seemed that to get better herbs, he’d have to walk his ass further afield. With his shopping list complete, he went back to the hut.
“The wanderer returns!” declared Cason. “Faei, call off the search party. No need to send a rescue for the little ballbag, here he is safe and sound.”
“Faei’s out hunting, so there’s no one around to hear your shitty jokes.”
Cason looked around. “Oh. So she is.”
Jake wiped the sweat from his brow. The sun had beat down on him for hours, and he was in no mood for Cason’s bullshit.
“Now,” Jake said, “If the crap’s finished dribbling from your mouth, can you teach me some real recipes?”
“Sure thing, my silver-tongued friend. Move your delicate bottom over to the counter and we’ll get started, shall we?”
Under Cason’s instructions, he cut the herbs, combined them with a potio base and then mixed them in water to create a potion. This was different to the healing potion; it was orange in color, with tiny flecks of gold floating in it from the patientiam herb. When he was done, he not only had a new kind of potion, but also a fresh recipe for his book.
Stamina Potion created [Mediocre] x1
Would you like to add stamina potion to your recipe book? [Current total 1/2]
He selected yes, even though he wasn’t too impressed. His class was alchemist, and although fighting was a part of life here, he didn’t think he’d be doing a lot of melee fighting. Maybe if he was a barbarian, or if he even travelled with a barbarian, it’d be useful. But Faei was a spectral archer, and Cason was an alchemist just like Jake.
“All this for a stamina potion,” said Jake, when he was finished. “If I get tired, I’ll just go to bed. I don’t need a potion for it. Come on now, stop messing around. You said you were going to show me something good.”
“Lad, many men will tell you that in certain circumstances, a stamina potion is a godsend. Mark my words, find yourself in a whorehouse with a pocket full of gonils, and you’ll beg for the energy to keep going.”
“I’ll bear that in mind if I ever get so old that I have to pay for it. I’m surprised that your shriveled-up old cock still works. And believe me, that’s not an image I like thinking about.”
“If you’re going to be such an imp-rectum,” said Cason, “We’ll move on. And when that stamina potion comes in handy, I want the most groveling apology ever made. I want it written in your blood. Now, let’s keep working, shall we?”
Cason sat in a chair and directed Jake on his second potion, stopping every so often to take a drink from a vial. The alcohol was so strong that Jake could smell it from across the room.
He found that each time he cut an herb, he was getting more proficient at it. He started to see better which parts of it were good, and his hands became steadier when he made cuts. Still, this potion was much more difficult than the stamina or healing concoctions, and his first two attempts failed.
“Have you got dicks for fingers?” asked Cason. “You’re handling the herbs like a virgin pawing at his first tit. Be more delicate, damn it.”
He tried again, this time tuning out the yammering of the old coot behind him, and focusing only on his knife and the herbs. He began to lose himself in his work, until all the sounds around him seemed muted. It was a peculiar feeling that he got when he practiced alchemy; he found that it absorbed him like nothing he’d experienced before.
When he was finished, he had a completed potion in front of him.
Brittle Bone potion **Poor** x1
Would you like to add brittle bone potion to recipe book? [Current total: 1/3]
Now we were talking! If he was honest with himself, brawn was never going to be his thing. As an alchemist, he just wasn’t cut out for sword battles. Brittle bone potion would even the odds in any fight. He added it to his book.
*Preparation skill upgraded to Level 2!*
-Cut accuracy increased to 3
-Steady hands increased to 4
With this came a real sense of victory, a feeling that flooded him much stronger than the buzz of alcohol. He’d taken another step on the road of alchemical knowledge. Sure, the highway to mastery stretched out longer than Route 66, but he’d walk it even if he had to drag his sorry behind through the dirt.
“An armless, blind, toddler’s excuse for an effort, putting it lightly,” said Cason. “But at least you did it.”
The bawbag was right, for once. It was a crummy effort, but this potion had been much harder to make. There was a damn good reason for that he realized, when Cason told him what it did.
“This one’s different, as my lordship requested,” said Cason. “You don’t drink this silvery stuff. Not unless you have a death wish. No. Use those scrawny arms of yours to throw it at anyone who needs their lifespan shortening.”
“And then what?”
“And then you make a cup of tea and sit down to resolve your differences. What the hell do you think? The potion weakens any arsenugget unfortunate enough to be hit by it. This horrible brew chips away at their bones, meaning even a ferret-muscled, sorry excuse for an alchemist like you can kill someone much tougher than yourself.”
Jake held up the vial and stared at Cason. “Maybe I should test it,” he said. “Let’s see, are there any jumped up asses in this room who could use a beating or two?”
“Try it, lad. I’ll rip off your cock, brew it up and make you drink it. And it wouldn’t be a very long drink, either, judging by the size of your pecker.”
Jake was about announce his plan to hit the hay, when he saw something in his peripheral vision. He snapped his gaze in its direction. Before, it had managed to scurry out of view before he could really see it, but he was too quick this time. When he did see it, he let out a gasp.
“What’s wrong lad?”
Jake stared at the creature. It was the size of a rabbit, but on the leaner side. It rested on its back legs, with its paws out in front of it like a meercat. Its fur was ink black. Almost impossibly black, so much so that he felt like if he touched it, the black would stain him.
Then a thought struck him. He’d seen this creature before. Not just a fleeting glimpse in the shack, but before then. Back in the warehouse. He’d followed it down the corridor, and it had led him to the portal.
“Holy shit,” he said. “You see that?”
He was ready for Cason to say he couldn’t see anything, but instead the alchemist regarded him seriously for a few seconds. He arched his eyebrow.
“The little creature?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just by the door.”
“You see that too, lad?”
“I’m started to go out of my mind here, Cason.”
Cas
on sighed. He patted Jake on the shoulder. “That’s a griefer,” he said, in the most serious tone Jake had ever heard him use. “Not everyone can see them. Only a few people can, in fact. The god damn unlucky ones.”
“What is it?”
“A harmless enough thing, in itself. More of a mild annoyance than anything else. It’s what it represents that’s most worrying.”
“And what does it represent?”