4.3 - The Cork

4.3 - The Cork

The Khahari trader seemed like a nice man. He bore mottled desert-patterned fur. Sand-colored patches mingled with dark brown spots, revealed by his mostly-bare torso. When Theo reached to shake his hand, the grip was firm and assuring.

Call me Zol, hed said, struggling with the local tongue.

We can do business in the sacred tongue, Theo said, speaking in Russian and leading the man toward some shade. It was getting dreadfully hot today already. A taste of the bitter heat to come.

Khahar was a prankster in everything. Boisterous and unerring in his ways. According to the man, when he was transmigrated to this planet he taught his people Russian. As a joke. He convinced them it was the sacred language of their heavens, and kept the joke going for 60,000 years. That was dedication the alchemist could admire.

I wasnt aware anyone spoke it outside of the Khahari Desert, Zol said with a nod. You were truly a friend of my master.

Theo found a crate to sit on, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Will the Khahari remain in the desert? What are you guys going to do without a master?

Azrug cleared his throat, then spoke in the Qavelli tongue. Were over here if you need us.

Zol shot a look at the Half-Ogre, then his gaze dragged back to Theo. They dont speak the heavenly tongue? Good. My lords plans are not for others to understand. We dont understand themwe dont question them. From his seat of power in heaven, hell give us commands. Now, trade.

Fair enough. The entire race of cat-people worshiped Khahar like a god. He was a god now, but even before that they considered him a deity. Theo shifted the conversation to trade, but it was difficult. Zols Qavelli was bad enough that when Theo had a question for Azrug, there was a brief back-and-forth. But the hour-long discussion bore fruit. Stone was in abundance in the Khahari homeland, but they lacked timber. That wasnt a surprise. The entire continent was a desert.

Gwyn and Azrug offered some tentative numbers, negotiating a high price for the wood. But there was a concession in their deal. The Khahari werent just valuable for their buying power. They had access to the other continents of the world. Existing trade networks that spanned beyond what Theo knew about. While he understood the existence of places like Slagrot, Partopour, and Bantein, he only knew of them by name. Zol had contacts in each of them. Trade empires willing to crack open the fruit of a newly founded nation.

Zol withdrew a bottle of yellow liquid from nowhere, joined by 4 glasses. He poured out a mouthful in each one and passed it out. To seal the deal.

Theo let the liquor burn all the way down into his stomach, but another quirk of Yuris humor shined through. It was a poor attempt at replicating Vodka. While he enjoyed the gesture, the alchemist drew up a proper magical contract to write the deal in stone. It wasnt much to start, but the gesture meant more than the flow of coins.

Advice for you, Archduke, Zol said before departing.

Please, Theo said, gesturing for the Khahari trader to continue.

You are a friend of the Khahari, because youre a friend of our god. Others wont see you as such. When they approach your port Double your patrols.

Theo clapped his hand over the mans fury shoulder. I appreciate the advice. Ill let my captain know.

That said, I would like to tour your town, Zol said. See what he saw.

Youre our guest, Theo said in Qavelli, gesturing for Gwyn to come over. This is one of my advisors. My administrator, Lady Gwyn. She doesnt have the time to be your personal guide, but shell give you a brief tour.

Anything for the Archduke of Broken Tusk, Gwyn said, stifling a laugh.

Theo departed without seeing them off, making his way to head back into town. Only to be stopped by Laedria Wavecrest. He suppressed a groan, his eyes lingering on her boat bobbing in the harbor. While he wanted to get working on the [Hallow Ground] shooter, boats were more important. They were the most important thing in town, there was no denying that.

How is it going? Theo asked, letting the annoyance fade from his mind in an instant.

How is it going? Laedria scoffed. She gestured at the boat. Going pretty damn good! First boat. What do you think? Wanna name it? I bet you wanna name it.

The Cork, Theo said.

Cork? Oh! Cause its small and bobbing in the ocean, right? Hah-hah, Laedria said. Seriously, do you like it?

Theo approached the harbors edge, looking out over the first boat built in Broken Tusk. This was a massive achievement, even if it was tiny. What style of vessel is this?

Fishers, Laedria said. Her crew hovered nearby, as though they expected high praise from the alchemist. We make Fishers, Traders, and Spears.

Light, medium, heavy, Theo said, nodding. I understand. What kind of pay are you and your team expecting?

Ah, well, Laedria said. She shifted in place, shuffling her feet along the stone ground. Im kinda crap at this part.

That sucked. Theo was bad at it as well.

Well work something out, Theo said. Currently, we dont have much trade to talk about. And youre not participating in the trade, yet. How much did you make for crafting a boat like this back home?

Laedria shrugged. Couple gold?

Theo scratched his chin, tapping his foot as he thought. What kind of business was this? He didnt need fishing boats, so why would he commission more fishing boats? The Cork was a proof of concept, nothing more. He withdrew 25 silver from his inventory and handed it over, gaining a confused look.

I said a couple gold, Laedria said.

And I dont need a fishing boat, Theo said. I want you to make this work as a business. Find the fisherman in town, and sell the Cork to them. Build me a Trader-style boat, and I'll pay you in full. How large are they?

Well, theyre more than four times the size of this little guy. Twin-masted and high-running in the water. Big hold for a lot of stuff, Laedria said.

And how much did you earn for those?

Youve driven the Blacksmith from his workshop, Thim said. Thats a crime worth punishment under Borhig.

Borhig has no power here.

Calm your ass, Demon, Thim said, waving him away. The Marshling is in his workshop. The artificer one.

Theo rolled his shoulders. He didnt realize that other gods were a sensitive point for himself, but there it was. It didnt help that he knew little about Borhig, Dwarven God of Blacksmiths. How are you settling in? Theo asked.

Well enough. Throk gave me a thrashing when he figured out I wasnt actually an apprentice. But were on good terms now. I fill in for him here when hes too busy. Hey, thanks for asking. Mister Archduke.

Theo shot him a glare and then walked away, not breaking eye contact. After disappearing behind the workshop, the alchemist reappeared to glare a little more. Just to send the point home. The Dwarf laughed and then he was off again. Throks artificer workshop was right around the corner, and the sound of creative Bantari cursing from within revealed that the man was inside. Three sharp knocks and another series of curses.

Come in, you idiot!

Theo let himself inside, finding Throk laboring over something that looked vaguely like the drawings hed seen.

Oh, if it isnt the

Make an Archduke joke. I dare you, Theo said.

Big old stupid Archduke. I was getting there, Throk said, slapping his hand on his newest artifice.

Theo spotted the barrel. It was the design that would work best. So the Marshling had gone ahead and worked on that concept. Good. Alright. I did a simple test, and this design is going to work best for shooting the potion.

It was my favorite design. Look here Yeah, right behind the tank. Its just a simple pump like the ones I used for the water. Only high-capacity.

Interesting, Theo said, leaning in. Delivering bad news to Throk was an art. The alchemist hadnt mastered that art, but he was trying. He stalled for a moment, pointing at various things he didnt understand before he gave up. Youll have to change the design.

Why?

The potion needs to come out in exactly 2-unit bursts, Theo said.

Why?

Thats how the potion works, Theo said. I dont make the rules.

Yeah, maybe you should. Archduke over here cant even make the rules.

Theo let out a dramatic sigh. Well, if youre not up to the job. Im going to need to

Alright, alright. I get it. Sorry for giving you a hard time about the title, Throk said, grumbling. What do I need to do again?

Theo explained the problem in detail, but the genius mind of the artificer had a solution. Instead of just drawing from a tank and spitting it out the front, he could attach a 2-unit tank near the barrel. Once it was loaded, he could apply pressure with his artifice magic and then release the potion all at once.

Does it matter if it comes out as a wild spray? Throk asked.

Theo shrugged. This requires more testing. Id say work on this design, and then we can test it Actually, Ill just leave some potion here for you to test with.

Youre alright with me just shooting the magic undead-killing potion like that? Isnt it precious?

Sure, but I have a cave filled with the truffles, Theo said. Id rather have a functional artifice. And Well, it just seems like too much effort to use anything else.

Fair enough, Throk said, prodding at his artifice.

Theo measured his expectations for the artifice weapons. There were already system-generated weapons they could mount to the north-facing walls of Gronro-Dir. Those ran on motes, a relatively abundant power supply. The one thing Throks idea had going for it was that it could spew whatever potion they wanted. For the [Hallow Ground] potions, that meant dousing the land with something that would instantly kill all undead. Assuming banishment was the same as death.

The potential for an anti-undead weapon like this was more than just in service of Gronro-Dir. This was the first step forward to something bigger for Theo. When the threat of undeath first arose, ideas had been swirling in his mind. Because if something was undead, it was difficult to kill. That was by definition of the word, but the reports hed received from Gronro proved that true. It wasnt enough to just destroy the undead, they needed to be banished. All of them.

Thus Theos idea of dropping potions from the airhowever that might workwas born. It had evolved with Throks idea, becoming a different plan entirely. Now he had the desire to spew massive quantities of the potion down onto the undead from a safe height. How to get to the safe height was another question, but the alchemist took problems one step at a time. Which led to the next thing that would piss the poor Marshling off.

I need some more stills, Theo said. Drogramathi Iron, if you can swing it.

Throk gave him a flat look. Isnt your lab full enough already?

Yeah, but You know, Theo said, shrugging. He hadnt planned on lying about this. Drogramathi Iron is better.

Throk let out a belabored sigh. Alright. Ill work with Thim to get you a few. How many do you need?

At least 4.

Youre going to be the death of me.