Fight School for beginners.

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 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."

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 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.

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?"

"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.

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 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.

Quote:

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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.

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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.

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.

Sketch could tell something was bothering Nevin, he couldn't put his finger on it. He mused on what could be the problem between spoonfuls. Nevin sat in the seat opposite to him and munched on a piece of toast as his pretty blackbird made a joyful noise on his shoulder. "So, whose you're friend Nevin? I noticed it in your shop, it seems extremely tame, and I didn't take you for being a pet person. Gosh it's pretty..." Sketch mused over the bird a little bit.

Sketch allowed his thoughts to drift away from the bird for a while as he contemplated other thoughts, "Anyway Nevin, I was thinking about the other topic we discussed last night, the weapon? I was thinking about it, even if we made it, I haven't the foggiest idea of how to properly fight, armed or otherwise. I was wondering if you had any thoughts or connections to a proper fighting instructor. The last thing I'd need is a powerful shape changing weapon, and yet have no idea on how to use it, and accidentally hurting myself in the middle of a fight."

The thought of using the strange weapon with unknown mutagenic properties should have worried Sketch on a deeper level than just sheer curiosity. It felt like nothing could drag him down from the high he was on. Sketch mused he needed more sleep that he thought he did. He wondered if he was going to be on a manic high like this every time he used Nevin's potion, it may take some balancing to even his moods out, as he wasn't sure that he wasn't going to hit an even deeper depression when the effects of the sleep potion wore off.

That was a shocking thought... Sketch wasn't normally a bright and cheery fellow on the best of times... what would he be like if he hit a depressive state? "Uh Nevin... you don't think that this high I'm feeling is going to cause an imbalance in my moods right? You wouldn't think that I may get into a slight depression once this fades off do you? I'm not certain I'd be the best person to wield nightmarish minions if I was in an extremely bad mood... Not that I think it would happen after one time, but maybe we should think about balancing out the moods with the next batch of potion. Just a thought."

Nevin reached up and stroked down Aphrael's crest, the black and red bird trilling happily as he petted her. Nevin's dark eyes flicked back to Sketch, raising and dropping one shoulder slightly. "I think there might be someone who could help us, yes. I want informed about her by a good friend of mine, so I trust the information. We will have to travel to the main isle to find her though. And I would suggest, until you get more comfortable with physical, personal combat, to just stick with one weapon, or maybe two at most. That will give you options and also the familiarity you'd need. Leave the multi-changing for later. Oh. This lovely girl is Aphrael. She found me by the fact that our magics apparently synced, so she came looking for me. She is... A bright spot, despite her coloration. And her voice is quite beautiful." Aphrael trilled and presented at Nevin's hair, sorting it with her beak as she sang her piping flute song into the air.

Nevin finished off the slice of toast and slowly sipped on his coffee. The issue that Sketch had brought up was something he had considered, and actually discarded as he thought about it now. He shook his head once, wincing as his head protested the action.

"No, no. The medicine you took is not in any way a mood changer. Your current state is actually likely the result of your body finally receiving the chemicals that are released during your sleep, or possibly the abatement of chemicals that have been building up as you were forced to stay awake or near so for a prolonged period of time. Once you get a fully normalized sleep schedule and are getting regular nights of sleep, you won't be experiencing this. And you aren't likely to have a depressed state from this, just have the high wear off and leave you in a more natural state." Nevin slowly drained his coffee in one long chain of swallow, and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

Sketch nodded thoughtfully at the man, he knew his practice well. The thought of a trainer was perfect. Everything that Nevin said made sense, Sketch figured that one weapon would be a good start, and a sickle or scythe would be perfect to start. "The trainer sounds perfect, are they a particularly good fighter? I hope I don't make myself look bad."

Sketch though about Nevin and Aphrael, the pair seemed to be in sync, which made Sketch happy, and a lot less worried for Nevin. He was happy that Nevin had a girl in his life, even if it was a bird. Seeing the look on Nevin's face brightened up Sketch's mood even more. "Nevin my friend, set up the meeting with this trainer, I'm excited to get started in learning the basics of combat."

The thought of learning how to fight properly was exciting for Sketch, it wouldn't be him cowering with a stick against wolves any longer, that didn't turn out well last time for him, he'd fallen off a rock and sliced his forehead open. The memory of that fight made his face turn a bright red in humiliation. He almost certainly was going to make a fool out of himself if it was personal combat. Sketch let out a deep sigh and continued to eat his fifth helping of bacon.

Sketch wondered if this trainer could help him coordinate fighting with one of his Grym, he wasn't sure how hard it would be to fight alongside a living nightmare. He wished that Nevin had been more specific about what the trainer was like, and what they were capable of, so he had a better idea of what he would be interested in trying to learn. He wasn't even sure that this trainer could teach him how to use either of the weapons he was interested in, seeing as how they were basically farm equipment, though he guessed that if he could learn anything at all about fighting, then it would be a net gain over all.

"From what I know, she's a skilled fighter. But as I said, we'll need to travel to Corone proper to meet with her. So, before then, let's make sure we get to the mines and gather the metal for our weapons. So." The alchemist stood up, stretching out his back from the chair and popping his spine. "Let's prepare for the mining trip - I'm certainly not ready to head into the mines, and I don't think you are either. So, let's meet back here in half an hour or so - you'll want to acquire a pick or pickaxe, and a large pouch to carry ore. I'll do the same."

He bowed, and set a few coins on the table. He knew Sketch had offered to pay, but with how much the orator had eaten his bill would be substantial enough without adding Nevin's tally to it. Aphrael trilled a parting flute set as Nevin walked off, heading towards his shop. He intended on getting the stimulants he so desperately needed, as without them he might just pass out while they were working.

Sketch met Nevin outside the mines that stonehaven was known for. Nevin had ran off to grab some supplies, maybe some more coffee, the poor man needed it. Sketch had grabbed a pick axe and several sacks to hold ore in. He'd come up with an idea in his manic revelry for gathering the material that Nevin would need, summoning a specific type of Grym to help out with the mining.

He wasn't sure that the miners would be 100% on board with letting random people come in and mining the ore without some sort of authorization. Sketch was interested in seeing how Nevin was going to make this weapon, and he was excited to start wielding it.

The idea of traveling to Corone was interesting, he was having a good time in Scara Brae, yet he always liked traveling. He wasn't sure where Nevin had been, but it would be an interesting trip if Nevin was going to go with him. He enjoyed the young man's company, and if anything dangerous happened, he'd feel better if they traveled together.

Sketch waited until the sun was past the midway point for Nevin, his manic high settling as the day passed on. He'd brought some food for the two of them while they were down there, and spoke to the foreman of the mine, getting his permission to enter and mine, in exchange for a small fee which Sketch paid. Everything was all set for their journey.

Nevin felt.. alive again. He had scrounged together a fairly powerful concoction of stimulants to take when he got back to his shop, and downed it, wincing at the acrid/bitter tang that washed down his mouth. Worse, he couldn't drink anything else to banish the vile flavor, as even water taken right now would dilute the efficacy of the brew, and if he was going down into the mines he would need every inch of his wits about him. It wasn't often that the redhead went down into a cave system - he normally preferred his explorations to take place somewhere he could see the sky. But - there were things that needed to happen in the mines, and he had promised Sketch that he would accompany the orator into the tunnels. So he collected his bag, acquired a pickaxe from a bemused general store owner - who had been highly amused at the fact that the scrawny Alchemist was going into the mines - and headed to the mine site.

The place was still a bit desolate from the Goblin attack, even though it had been a few days since the assault, and the mines had quickly reopened. The mines were the village's primary source of income, its lifeblood, and something like a few people dying in a Goblin raid could not keep the mines closed for long. By the time he got there, the midday sun was blazing high overhead, beating down on the environment as Nevin trudged into sight of the mine opening. Sketch was there, talking amicably with the mine foreman, and when the orator saw the Alchemist he cheerily waved the redhead over. Nevin could tell as he approached that some of the sheer excessive energy that had been pervading the man had faded by now, but he didn't seem to be having a chemical crash. Good.

Nevin made sure the two of them had hydrating drinks - water skins that he had dosed with a few herbs to replenish their stamina as they worked - and led the way into the mines. The first task would be to find veins to work from - veins that hadn't already been played out by the other, actually professional miners. Thankfully they had many tunnels that they had built to get the really, really profitable stuff and the large veins, leaving smaller veins often ignored in their rush for the high value things. The Alchemist did feel a bit... off as they walked through the mine shafts - it was the first time he'd been in a tight, enclosed space like this in a long, long time, and he found he didn't much care for it. Still, he would bear it for now. Finding some Damascus, iron and Plynt for their weapons would be immensely valuable, so he could just suck it up for now.

Sketch and Nevin made it down into the deeper parts of the mine, the foreman had given some idea of where some smaller veins could be found, at least for some of the more base metals. After half an hour, the pair had walked past the fixed lights and had lit their own lanterns. The light revealed less of the wall than they'd hoped, neither one knew much about how to mine metal, Sketch thought that maybe it was time to unleash his Grym. "Hold on a second Nevin, allow me to call in an expert." Sketch intoned his dark voice and called out from the nightmarish place that the Grym called home, and summoned a large-muscled bearded being with a large pointed hat and a giant metal pickaxe.

"This is Grumpy, he happens to an expert miner, and I think he'll know where we should go, he can sense out where metal is by instinct. He's really a very intelligent Grym." Grumpy promptly picked up a nearby rock and put it in his mouth, chewed it up and swallowed it with a loud gulp. "Apparently he also eats rocks. So... there's that," Sketch said. "Just tell him what we're looking for and he can show us the way and help us mine it out. Don't think of him as a typical Althanean dwarf, he's a fairytale creature."

The pair directed the dwarf to find a source of iron to start with, the dwarf lifted its large, bulbous nose in the air and began to sniff. it slowly trudged down the hall, the lack of light apparently not hampering its movement. after a few minutes, the Grym stopped, turned to the wall, wrapped a knuckle on the stone, and swung it's axe in a powerful stroke that shattered the rock wall.

After a few of the large blows, Grumpy took more delicate swings that took of small chunks of the raw rock, eventually a glint of metal showed in the lantern light. Sketch took a small magnet he brought for this occasion, and brought it to the vein, it stuck. it was iron. Sketch began to direct the large Grym to help him clear it, and the pair uncovered about a foot of the ore in the wall.

Sketch stood proudly as he looked at Nevin with his pickaxe clutched in his hand. Grumpy picked up another rock and put it in his mouth.

So, the Grym that Sketch could summon were more than just the nightmarish abominations that puppeted dead flesh like Nevin had seen before. That was actually greatly reassuring to the man - if the only way that the orator could summon his ...minions was to have corpses on the ground, then that was a problem. But no, he could call forth free standing beings, which settled that problem. The Alchemist doubted Sketch even realized that this was the first non-corpse summon that Nevin remembered seeing. If he had summoned one back in the tavern when he was explaining it, Nevin couldn't remember.

And then the thing ate a rock. Nevin felt a throb at the back of his head as he stared at the happily chewing creature. That shouldn't have been - why was that possible? If Sketch was custom-creating his summoned Grym, then it would stand to reason that they would not have any quirks that he didn't know about - or that they should not have the same desires as a normal creature, which meant no need for sustenance. So then why was this thing eating a rock as it led them through the tunnels? Was Sketch incorrect in his presumption about his power? Were even his 'on the fly' summoned Grym actually already existing creatures and he was just pulling them from a mildly different source than the feral ones? Was he acting as a gateway for something else to come to their world?

That was absurd. It's not like there was some master intelligence plotting away somewhere using the Orator to introduce his creations to the world. Nevin firmly shoved his bogglement out of his mind, refusing to bring it up to the other man. If it ever became a problem, then Nevin would confront Sketch about it -but for now, there was no reason to think anything malicious was going on. Then the two reached a spot where the 'dwarf' Grym had stopped and started going after the wall, and thoughts about the mechanics of the summoned beings was pushed from Nevin's mind. They had found one of the ores they would need - and they'd likely need three at the very least -and so they were making progress.

It was a little amusing how Sketch turned towards Nevin after the two of them had cleared away the rock around some of the iron ore. It was almost like someone showing off a proud little accomplishment, a child to be more precise. Nevin nodded to him. "Excellent work. Hopefully there is enough here to smelt with your Damascus when we find that ore. Little Dwarf, can you identify that metal ore, Damascus?" Nevin didn't know if Damascus was a raw material wherever the Grym came from like it was here, but he hoped it was or that the creature could innately find it.

The dwarf cocked it's head at Nevin's question, a large bulbous finger perched on it's lips in heavy thought. Grumpy then lifted it's huge nose in the air and gave loud long snorts as it sniffed the air for several seconds. It then began is slow lumbering fair on it's too short legs, the walk was comical. It made its way back to the well lit corridor, stopped and sniffed the air again with its bulbous nose, and chose a different tunnel.

After another 20 minutes of walking and climbing, the Grym stopped, took his pick and tapped lightly on the wall. As a small rock broke off, he caught it and popped it in his mouth. Deciding that the flavor was right, he took his axe and began to excavate, the large strikes causing a loud echo in the mines as the Dwarf sailed through the rock, pebbles and dust blanketing the two men as it worked.

Eventually the dwarf stopped, walked over to the wall, sniffed it and jumped up in excitement. It made loud grunts as it delicately removed the earth covering the grey metal that the pair had asked it to seek out. As the vein was being cleaned and transferred to the bags that they'd brought, the dwarf would pick up a rock and put it in its mouth.

After Grumpy finished mining the Damascus, Sketch addressed the Grym, "Okay Grumpy, now the last one we need today is a green metal called "Plynth". It's a metal that can hold liquid, can you find any around here?" Grumpy sniffed the air once more, and continued down the tunnel they were already in.

The short bearded man trudged it's way to a wall that was 500 feet away from where they found the Damascus, and this time, without using his pick, began to dig with his hands. After he'd dig for an hour or so, Nevin and Sketch could see a glint of green in the lantern light. As the dwarf exposed more and more of the green metal, Sketch attempted to use his pick to knock it out of the wall. Grumpy grabbed the pick before it could hit the metal and shook his head slightly.

The dwarf used his bare hands to extract the metal from the wall and put it into the bag. After everything had been said and done, the trio had a considerable amount of ore to bring to the surface, Sketch had Grumpy take the brunt of the weight, while Nevin and himself carried all of the equipment.

Nevin nodded slightly as the dwarf prevented the story-teller from striking the Plynt with his pickaxe. When he had started looking up the useful (for him) metal, the Alchemist had found that it caught fire very easily, and burned away rapidly when it burned. While using the pick might not have caused the Plynt to burst into flames, it was better safe than sorry. But it was strange that the dwarf could dig through the rock with its bare hands - or that it had known about that despite looking confused at first. It was like the thing was learning about the world while it was here... Nevin shook off his thoughts, that wasn't something to worry about for right now.

The two Humans - at least Nevin thought that Sketch was a Human, even if he was a little hesitant about using that appellation on himself - carried the tools up to the surface - though Nevin did take the bags of ore when they reached the top levels of the mines, and nudged Sketch, nodding his head towards the dwarf. Sketch stared at him blankly for a moment, then looked to the Grym he had summoned (invited over) and he seemed to realize the issue, and with a laugh he waved his hand, dismissing the shadowy entity back to wherever it came from. Even though Sketch trusted that he could keep the Grym under control, Nevin felt better now that the mysterious entity was gone.

So back towards the town the two went - with the alchemist explaining to the other man about the smithy that he was working at as an apprentice. The idea was to go there and smelt the raw ore that they had collected down into workable ingots at the smithy, and then the two of them could retreat somewhere to get lunch and work on designs for their weapons. Nevin already had a few ideas for his own weapon - working off of the idea for his whip, he was already thinking of ways to actually make it workable.

Llukrath, the Elven smith, was more than happy to work with the ore that two men brought to him. Nevin was even able to negotiate the others, the proper smiths, doing the work of smelting away the slag rock and making the ingots for them, in exchange for some of the surplus metal that they had brought back. While they began to work, the redhead lead the other man over to a small table, and after a moment of searching found some sheafs of paper, and sticks of graphite. He sat down and looked towards Sketch, raising one eyebrow as he gestured to another empty seat.

"Well. Let's get to work shall we? I plan on a whip as my own weapon, what about yourself? Still keen to try the mutable weapon, or have you managed to decide on a particular one?"

Sketch thought the question over, it had some merit, he doubted he'd ever be much of a warrior, at least for a while. He thought that maybe a simple weapon would be best for now, maybe the chemist could make a weapon that could be added to later. "I was thinking Nevin, maybe a basic tool would be best for me to learn with, a sickle or something of the sort. I was thinking that once my ability to use the weapon grew, we could modify the weapon to be better suited, maybe something with a chain for me to impede an enemy."

Sketch watched the elven smith working around him, his skill was undeniable, and he wondered how much Nevin had learned from someone like him. He was interested at the weapon that Nevin wanted to make for himself, it would be an interesting development to see what the scholar would choose to fight with.

"I'll sit back and observe my friend, I'll gladly use any weapon you find suitable. After we're done, we can discuss that trainer of yours once this task is finished. I want to thank you Nevin for all you've done, this was an interesting ordeal, and I can't thank you enough for helping me get some sleep." Sketch gave a deep bow with one hand, "If I can ever return the favor in anyway, please let me know without any hesitation."

Sketch wasn't sure what Nevin was planning to use the strange green metal for, but he hoped that what ever he planned would be of some use for the chemist, he would be forlorn if he was the only one benefiting from the trip to the mines. Though he mused, if he could summon more of the dwarf grym, he may be able to make a decent amount of money from it.

The story teller stood back and allowed Nevin to make the proper arrangements.

It was Llukrath who had an idea about a weapon that matched what the orator had mentioned he was thinking about. While some of the other apprentices were working on smelting the ore down - working the bellows to heat raw ore was definitely not a task for a journeyman - the Elf sat down and took the graphite from Nevin.

"Hm. A simple weapon, easy to learn with. Yes, a sickle would be a good idea - with a padded grip so your hand won't slide and risk injuring yourself. But now, a chain on it - there's tales that the travelers from the other continent had brought a weapon like that - and what if it worked like this..." The Elf's hands moved smoothly, gliding across the paper as he drew out a weapon. It was short, a one-handed affair clearly, and the curve of the scythe was gentle, barely noticeable, a first glance might make one think it was straight. At the bottom of the haft, below where the pointy-eared fellow added the grip, his hand hesitated for a moment before he tapped it. "This is where things become a bit complicated. What you might want to do is add some extra length for the time being, and then when you are looking to reforge it then you can hew away that extra length to give the modularity you mentioned. Trying that from the creation might lead to some integral weakness that could come back to impair you. In either case, at the bottom here is where you'd add the chain - a simple, several foot long affair. Now, beyond just the chain, you'll actually want a weight of some kind. Do you have a preference?" Sketch rubbed his chin in thought as Llukrath tapped the paper with one long, slender finger.

"A spike. Something I can throw and have it stick in." The Elf nodded and finished sketching out the weapon, and pushed the paper over towards Sketch. Then the man turned towards Nevin, who had been quietly working on his own design while the Journeyman helped the orator. He raised one elegant eyebrow and cleared his throat, making the Alchemist look up and blink at the other two for a moment before furrowing his brow.

"Ah - my weapon. Right, I want the metal to be drawn out into a thin, flexible wire, something that can coil and unfurl without damaging itself. Maybe links, or a treatment of some kind if possible, I'm not sure what it would need. Anyway. Drawn out into a wire, with barbs or thin spikes created at intervals. I plan on combining the metal with something else, leather or hide possibly to help protect the flexible wire itself, and making a whip from it. With a notch or a groove at the bottom - Plynt gathers liquids, and I'd like a way to drain it if at all possible." Llukrath's eyebrow raised even further at that as he listened to the Alchemist talk. It was a nasty weapon that the normally passive man was describing, and it seemed a bit at odds with the image that Nevin normally projected. He didn't say anything though, as Nevin tapped his chest - where Elthas had been injured in the Goblin raid. At that, the Elf nodded once, and raised no objections as he nodded.

"Sadly you'll need to pay for the weapons themselves - Master Yark would likely kill me if I tried to make them in exchange for some raw ore. But these designs should work well for you. Go on then - I'll have the ingots delivered to your shop, Nevin." Nevin nodded and bowed to Llukrath, thanking him for the help he had given them. After that he turned towards Sketch.

"I'll need some time to set up the meeting - and you'll need to be prepared to travel out to Radasanth, on the main isle of Corone. Meet me there in.. say a week? That should give me the time to find the instructor, and someone to make the weapons for us. I'll also make some more of the sleep aide, and leave it at the inn for you." Nevin stretched out his arms - they had been working for a fair portion of time, and mining before that, so he was a bit sore. But he needed sleep - and for tonight, Sketch had one of the stronger sleep aides. Or at least, he did after Nevin remembered to hand the next strongest potion over before heading back towards his shop.

~Fin~

Name of Judgement: Fight School for Beginners
Judgement Type: No Judgement

Rewards:

The Crooked Knight receives:
845 EXP
0 Gold


Nevin receives:
1050 EXP
58 Gold

Spoil requests granted:
"Sketch: Damascus (Enough for a Sickle)" - 2 pieces granted
"Nevin: Plynt (Enough for a barbed Whip)" - 1 piece granted (one should be enough for breaking up into a barbed whip. You will also need some form of hide for the whip itself)

“Hermione, if Harry’s seen a Grim, that’s — that’s bad,” he said.
“My — my uncle Bilius saw one and — and he died twenty-four hours later!”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

"The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure."
- Thomas Jefferson

All rewards have been added.