Fight School for beginners.

[The Crooked Knight]

Sketch stood in the main room of the alchemist's shop. Nevin and Sketch came up with a few interesting experiments to try out, the first being a special type of sleeping draught that would inhibit the Grym from invading his dreams. The second idea Nevin came up with on his own, a special weapon the would be able to mimic the abilities of the Grym that were summoned by Sketch.

Sketch was grateful for the sleeping potion, the chance to have a decent nights sleep was an extremely attractive prospect for the storyteller. Nevin seemed to be very well versed in the alchemical arts, he was getting a reputation in town for not only his competency, but also as a kind businessman.

The idea of a weapon was new to Sketch, He’d never considered himself a warrior, he’d never really considered himself much of anything other than a storyteller. He knew however, that if he was going to go and explore the mysteries of the Grym, he’d need to gain more power in order to fight the more dangerous enemies that would undoubtedly try to get in his way.

Nevin was proving to be a very useful friend, Sketch had come to appreciate the attention to detail and thorough desposition that the alchemist had when dealing with problems. The quiet man enjoyed a voracity for knowledge that Sketch found commendable.

As the lean man stood in the main room of the shop awaiting Nevin to finish his preparations, he wondered about some of he rumors that circulated about the chemist. Word around town was that Nevin had a nekojin wife and a small child, while Nevin flatly denied it, Sketch had a small hope that someone was taking care of his personal life, giving him something other than his studies to occupy him.

[Nevin]

Nevin closed and locked the hatch behind him, shifting the four vials he had brought up to the main level from his carry platform to his arms. It had taken him a day or two to get the varying formulae correct, and now he was curious to see if any of them could be used to help the man who had come to him. Sketch, the storyteller, had come to him with a rather unique problem that was causing him physical stress and problems, and the man had hoped that Nevin's alchemical skills could be put to use in his situation.

The problem was, Sketch's situation was unique enough that Nevin was essentially flying blind as he tried to figure out how to allay the 'illness' that the other man was suffering from. It was fascinating though, and Nevin had a sheaf if notes and ideas downstairs now on how to mimic the problem - ways of causing short and long term restless and sleepless nights - as well as possible effects of the lack of rest on various bodies, and how to possibly reduce those effects even if the root cause couldn't be dealt with. Unique problems were always a spark for advancements in his Alchemy - part of why he kept getting distracted whenever he saw a new race that wasn't well documented.

As he came into the main room of the shop, Nevin saw that Sketch was still waiting patiently, seemingly lost in his thoughts. The other man was as devoted to his pursuit of stories and tales of yore as Nevin was to furthering his alchemical and magical studies. It was... refreshing to meet another dedicated individual, even if he didn't seem to have the same obsessive issues that Nevin did - of course, that was just conjecture, Nevin had no way of knowing if that was really the case.

The Alchemist set the vials down on the counter between himself and Sketch. They were all shades of an inky grey hue, and Nevin had arranged them from a pale grey all the way to the final, which was so dark as to be almost black. He swept one arm above the vials as he began to explain.

"Right then. The hypothesis I was working off of is that your issue is not falling asleep - it is rather that, the stage of sleep where dreams occur is disturbed, thus preventing you from actually reaching a restful state. Now, unfortunately I cannot address the nature of these beings that are preventing a restful slumber - my skills with magic are rather different from those concerned with dreams and their denizens, so I must focus my efforts on the physical plane. So, my solution is this." He tapped the counter behind the vials. "The ingredients in these are all the same, just in varying concentrations. The part you'll be interested in is a sedative that is not normally used in sleep aides for two reasons: first, it tends to shove the user straight into deep slumber within a few minutes of consumption. Second, waking up from the medicine is abrupt and jarring - there will be no gradual falling sleep or waking up with this medicine, you will either be asleep or awake. However, considering that it is during these gradual states that most dreams occur... Now. Each of these has, as I said the same ingredients. The darker the hue, the more of the sedative was used in the brewing process. I want you to try each of these in progression, and see which one it is that actually allows you to get a full, restful sleep. Work up to the most potent though - the amount of sedative in it is just a few steps below the maximum dosage for most humans. Hopefully one of the lesser doses will work."

[The Crooked Knight]

Sketch was sure that what ever side effects were present, Sketch wouldn't care. He'd not had a good night sleep in months. "I think that one of the first two would work perfectly. Thank you Nevin," Sketch gave his friend a deep bow. "I'll report back after trying the first one, and we'll see what we need to do from there."

Sketch took the first bottle. He genuinely looked forward to having a good night's rest, of this worked out well, Nevin would have Sketch as a constant customer.

Sketch was certain that whatever problems that Sketch encountered, that the alchemist could solve them, even ones that resulted from his particular condition. The young man had skills that most doctors would envy, and at such a young age that it made Sketch extremely curious about where he'd be in 10 years.

Sketch and Nevin had set up a bench in a corner of Sketch's room at the inn to test out the potions. Nevin knew how to monitor Sketch, and at which time he'd be approaching deep sleep. The storyteller knew he was a magnet for the Grym, something about his powers not only allowed him to summon them, but also made him naturally draw the wild Grym to his dreams. He hoped that blocking them out while he slept wouldn't effect his ability to summon the Nightmares.

"So tell me, Sir Nevin, Now that we have that problem reasonably well in hand, let me ask about the conditions we need for that weapon you'd spoken of. You say you'd need my to have a Grym present? Is there anyplace in particular you'd like me to do it? and is there any specific size or other qualification for the subject in question? I can get very specific if you need particular conditions. And do not be alarmed, it won't cause you any harm, I'll keep it docile."

Sketch wanted to reassure his friend that he was in no danger from his abilities, normally people didn't get much exposure to a Grym, that's why they tended to spawn a legend. It was the whole point of the Nightmares, the more widespread the legends of a particular Grym, the more powerful the Grym became. While he'd never made any real attempt to hide his power, he'd never wanted to cause a panic, and he wasn't sure how the townsfolk would react to the monsters, or how they'd affect the experiments or potions that Nevin had going on in his shop.

[Nevin]

Nevin hummed under his breath as he rubbed his chin in thought. If he was to approach this problem by normal, true Alchemy, he would need to be capable of the transmutative arts, which he was still searching for instructions on how to begin to acquire. No, this would need to be approached via his own skills, if they couldn't find someone else to help out. But - that was not something that Sketch needed to know just yet, no need to expose the man to the truth of how Nevin's deeper magics worked. But - first, to answer the man so he didn't worry.

"Firstly, we'll likely need a magically conducive metal of some kind. The best place to get that would actually be to make a trip down into the mines near here, we might be able to find what we need in it." Then Nevin picked up his notebook and gestured to the front door, indicating they should walk and talk. Nevin tucked the other two vials into his bag - in the situation that Sketch had underestimated the pull the nightmares had on him and he needed a stronger dose - and led the way out of his shop, locking the door behind him. Aphrael trilled a goodbye tune that both men would hear as she retreated back to sleep in the upstairs window. They would need to test Sketch's sleep before they did anything else - Nev could see the signs of exhaustion taking their toll, though the other man seemed to handle himself admirably well. Still, even one night of sleep would probably do wonders for him.

"And when I said you would need to keep a specific Grym, I meant keep one in mind. If what I'm thinking will work, you will want to focus on one that has a weapon - my theory should see that weapon being imitated in the weapon that we create for you. So think on it as we try to get the metal we need later, what's a weapon or a style of weapon you would be comfortable using? And who would use it?" It would be strange, he thought, to try capturing the Essence of a Nightmare - and he didn't even know if it would work. For all he knew, it might create a more amorphous item, something that drew on the nature of the Nightmares in general instead of a specific one. Hmm, a more unstable weapon? Perhaps one he would control by enforcing his will on it to maintain a specific shape? Or perhaps a placebo effect, by having him think of one weapon in conjunction with the morphing one, it would just default to that. It would be...interesting to see what happened.

[The Crooked Knight]

Sketch pondered the question over thoughtfully. He'd never used a weapon for any particular length of time, and the only thing he'd ever tried to defend himself with was his walking stick, and he'd failed that time miserably. His usual Grym were armed with axes and scythes, weapons Sketch chose usually to intimidate people. He'd always tried to pick aspects for his Grym that were tailored to the situation, and for the usual course of events, the situation usually needed a good dose of terror, swords, shields and spears were tools of heroes that inspired hope.

He supposed a weapon of terror like a scythe was a good enough weapon for someone like him, if he was going to use one. He didn't think that he was cut out for a role as an inspiring hero, maybe a symbol of fear and death was better suited to a man with such a spooky demeanor.

The thought of who could wield such a weapon was not terribly difficult for Sketch, he always had a favorite Grym in mind, a standard he built from in his mind. It was a scarecrow, with stick-thin wooden limbs, rough and inhuman, yet with the barest semblance of a human. The head of the monster was a burlap sack, with a rough stitched face, with a small bit of straw poking out of the top, covered in an old hat. It was his go to Grym, the natural one he had in mind if there wasn't a story he had in mind. It always had a Scythe that it wielded with wicked glee, Sketch called it Patches in his mind.

"So, Nevin, what kind of metal did you have in mind? I've heard good things about Damascus, it has a high ability to absorb magic that sounds about right. It'd just take some iron and carbon if I recall my stories of Kenji the Maker. in his stories he ran iron enriched dirt through a furnace full of coal and let the steel bloom at the bottom. Is that close to the process? I admit to not being a smith, though there are lands where the stories of smithing are amongst the most popular they tell, one of them is Alerar I believe." Sketch said to the chemist, with a little bit of whimsy in his voice.

"I believe that stonevale has a decent mine that we can try and explore. We may be able to find the iron we need there, and perhaps even some more rare materials if we look hard enough. I'd be more than happy to try my hand at mining if it would help matters, and maybe some of the rock we come across could be useful for your potions as well, eh?"

[Nevin]

"The base of the weapon will likely need to be Damascus, yes. Unless you'd prefer just to work off of a single weapon - that would likely be easier to find. The Damascus will be difficult to acquire, even if we're just trying to use a small portion of it to enhance the weapon. It will however add to the connection between you and the weapon. I unfortunately don't know the tales of Kenji - and I'm only an apprentice smith, so when I work they have me working with scrap iron most of the time." They had reached Sketch's current residence, and Nevin set up on the small bench that he would be using while observing the other man's slumber that night. Out from his bag came a notebook and a stick of graphite, and the alchemist was ready to begin recording. He twirled the graphite around in his hand as he thought about the other suggestion from the orator.

It was true that there were some minerals that could be used in alchemy. He usually didn't bother venturing to the mines to gather any, but they did exist. And if he could begin experiments - or if they could find a vein of that metal that absorbed liquid - he would be quite interested. Hmm. Something to keep an eye out for, perhaps. In the corner of one page he jotted down to look out for veins of green metals when they were in the mines. This began him thinking, as he waited for Sketch to take his medicine and try to sleep. He would prefer to continue using a whip - the ability to use his blood threads, while usually kept a secret from people, was an invaluable weapon. And if he could figure out how to use whips more effectively in combat, that would only improve how well he handled the magical variant. So, that would be the weapon he would look into learning how to use when he could find a teacher - he knew there was no one here in Stonevale who could train him. So, then, what to make it from? What could he use? The main body of the weapon would need to be a fabric or hide derivative of some kind - tougher than cloth would be preferred, too easy to sever.

But, combining it with threads of Plynt? That could provide the whip added resistance to someone trying to cut it - and the Plynt would let him give the whip barbs, Yes, and by keeping the barbs connected with the bands of Plynt inside of the whip, they would be able to absorb far more blood than the barbs themselves could drain. Nevin tilted his head down to hide the vicious smile at that thought. He could also always just drain the blood from the Plynt afterwards, and use that. It would be an interesting and useful way of getting around draining blood from animals and using them to make Essences - if his weapon drained blood already, who would care what he did with it? So, he had the metal - now he would just need to think of a leather or fabric to combine with it.

[The Crooked Knight]

Sketch sat on his feather down bed, he'd asked for it specifically to help him get as much sleep as he could. He nodded to the alchemist sitting on the bench across the room, his books and notes in front of him. Sketch wasn't sure how this was going to feel, mainly because the first one had the lowest dose of the tranquilizer, so he wasn't sure how deep the sleep would be. He took the flask in his hands, and unstopped it. The chemical had a flavor of rich licorice, mixed with a little bit of corn syrup, and it had a consistency similar to milk.

Sketch felt the effects almost instantly, as a weight slowly creeped from the top of his head to his shoulders, and then to the rest of him. The world in front of Sketch grew hazy as his eye lids became too heavy to lift. Sketch put effort into lifting his legs off the floor and setting them on the bed, and then laying his head on the pillow. He counted down from 10 and made it to 8 as he fell asleep. His mind wasn't as completely numb as he thought it'd be, he was remotely aware of something. he couldn't be sure, but he felt that it tasted like... walrus? No no, it was more like chartreuse, yes that was it.

The scene in his eyes was something like a waterfall, with color racing through him rather than in front of his eyes. The cascading colors spread apart, and the scene in his head was something different from either a dream or one of the nightmare scenes of the Grym. There was a man sitting in a chair, his entire body was a dark translucent black. He sat with his hands grasping the arms of the chair, and Sketch felt the man staring right at him. "Well this is a surprise! I didn't expect that we'd meet yet. And I never expected we'd meet at my place. You aren't ready for me yet, but i'm itching to get outside and play," the man said, his voice a pleasant baritone. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave, and I'm locking the door behind you, but it was nice to meet you."

Sketch awoke with a start, panting hard and sweating heavily. He looked over at Nevin, sitting on the bench with a book in his hand. "I think we'll need a stronger dose. That one was... strange. Not bad, but I don't want to see that again." He rubbed his eyes, feeling slightly more rested. He took the next vial, and nodded at Nevin once more, drank the syrup, and this time fell completely asleep almost instantly. The increase in concentration causing a quicker reaction, and a deeper sleep.
This time, Sketch had no dreams.

[Nevin]

Nevin had prepared to write as soon as Sketch took the first potion. The normal signs of the influence of the drug were in clear evidence - almost as soon as he drank it, the story-teller began to move sluggishly, his limbs drooping as he moved. It was almost like watching a person try to wade through molasses, as the other man slowly, methodically swung his legs up onto the bed. He almost seemed to collapse backwards, his body sagging onto the bed as the tension vacated him. Sketch didn't even twitch when Nevin stood up and moved over to him, tossing the blanket onto the man before returning to his seat and resuming his observation.

There was some evidence of dreaming, even with the medicine in his system. That was interesting, and it indicated that whatever was affecting the man had a strong enough hold to work on his physical body, not just his mind. He noted that there did seem to be some discrepancy - Sketch didn't immediately enter the dream state, but once he did his eyelids began to move rapidly, his face twisting slightly. It wasn't... terror, which indicated that it was not the normal nightmares -

Nevin sat bolt upright, his eyes wide when Sketch woke up and asked for the stronger dose. The man unstoppered the next vial and downed it, and immediately collapsed back onto the bed, vial clutched loosely in his hand. This time, the orator did not enter into a dream state - there were a few twitches as his body shot right past that stage of the sleep cycle but nothing more. Nevin meanwhile was writing furiously. Waking up that abruptly should not have been possible - the medicine, even at the low dosage that Sketch had taken, was enough to keep a fully grown man down for at least six hours. Sketch had been asleep for fifteen minutes. Nevin was currently frantically writing, running calculations through as he tried to figure out what would happen now.

Even if the medicine had been temporarily negated, Sketch had taken more and gone right back to sleep. The current level was not enough to be an overdose - he was still well below that line - but he would likely be out for at least ten hours at this point. Nevin had intended on giving him a neutralization agent between the doses so they didn't amplify each other's effects, but he had taken the next vial so quickly that Nevin didn't even have time to think about it, much less have it out. He had, after all, not expected the man to be awake for hours yet. Cobalt. Nevin slipped back to his shop for a few minutes, grabbing some stimulant potions and food before returning. It wouldn't do to fall asleep during the observation period, even if it did run longer than he had intended.

Potions ready to go to keep him awake, Nevin settled in to watch, running through alchemical formula and taking notes as he passed the hours away.

I figure from here we can start moving towards the mine, maybe have a post or two where they stop to get food on the way.

[The Crooked Knight]

Sketch bolted upright in his bed, the jolt of Nevin's medicine took a little getting used to. he took a minute to examine himself, his thoughts were more clear and focused, his stomach felt settled and he felt more still than he usually did in his normal state. It was peaceful.

He looked around his room and saw Nevin with a text in his hands and a notebook open with scribbles on it. Sketch took a second before getting out of bed and walked over to Nevin, the cold of the wooden floor chilling the bottom of his naked feet. The storyteller coughed, not wanting to startle the chemist when he was so deep in thought. "My friend, this concoction of yours is fantastic. That was the best night sleep I've had in years, how long was I out?" Sketch looked over at Nevin, seeing the bags under his eyes, "My goodness man, did you stay up all night? My dear man, you must allow me to take you out for breakfast, a cup of coffee will hold you nicely I think."

Sketch felt good, like really good. He couldn't remember ever feeling so refreshed. As the pair walked down the street to a local cafe, Sketch felt a skip in his step that normally felt more like a drag. He made frequent stops to greet the people who waved at him and the children who smiled at the memories of the stories that he'd told. Sketch didn't realize how many people knew him from the town.

The day seemed brighter than normal. With the extra energy in his step, the pair bounced along the street stopping between carts to greet each person, it was mid morning when the pair got to the cafe.

Nevin looked tired, Sketch could sympathize. He ordered a plate of food- bacon, sausage, toast, grilled tomatoes, eggs, orange juice, water and coffee, he felt hungry. He assured Nevin that he could order anything he wanted, the poor man looked rather pale, though that could be normal for Nevin. If the chemist was ever going to attract a woman, he'd need to improve his color. Sketch laughed at the thought that maybe he really did have a secret wife, so maybe he didn't really care about attracting anyone.

[Nevin]

If he could not tell just how insanely happy the story teller was right now, Nevin might have been tempted to kill him. Even on good days the alchemist was not a morning person - he normally opened his shop up a bit late for that very reason. And right now he was currently functioning on roughly sixteen hours plus without sleep, and what was probably an absolutely unhealthy amount of stimulant potions.

So the bright, chipper, bouncing ball of energy that was skipping, yes Nevin double checked this the man was literally skipping, next to him as the redhead trudged towards a nearby café was just this side of blindingly infuriating. It seemed like any moment blue birds would start landing on his shoulder, singing a chorus to greet the day. Meanwhile Nevin would have perfectly fit the dark red and black bird that was currently flying along - if it wasn't for the fact that Aphrael was currently piping out happy flute notes, the bright cheery tones ringing out into the sunshine of the day.

Nevin had grunted when Sketch woke up and asked him how long the orator had been asleep, begrudgingly tapping the set of tally marks that he had settled on making on the page as every hour had passed. Sixteen. Sixteen Crimson-forsaken hours watching, making sure the story teller had not accidentally killed himself, and then preparing to wake him up if necessary. The alchemist did not agree with Sketch, Nevin firmly believed that a mere cup of coffee would not be enough to help him. He would need a more powerful stimulant from his supplies to combat the heavy fog that was dragging his steps down.

But in the end, Nevin could not blame Sketch for how happy he was, how energetic he was. The man, according to what he had said, had not had a decent night's sleep in months, if not longer. Who knew, maybe getting sleep again, and knowing he could sleep on a regular schedule without suffering from those nightmares, the Grym, could completely change how the man acted. Hopefully he would normalize out from the absolute madness that he was currently operating in. Nevin watched, almost dumbfounded, as Sketch shoveled what Nevin thought was his third plate of food into his mouth, showing absolutely no signs of slowing down. Nevin on his hand was currently nibbling sedately on just one piece of toast.

There was something about the grin that the man was shooting him through mouthfuls of food that irritated Nevin. The alchemist plastered a grimace in his face, a dark scowl to balance the sheer joy that the story teller was radiating all over the place.