Arno Timber grumbled irritably. Sparks flew at him and bounced off of the welding mask he wore. The shop was quiet, the usual early evening lull as people busied themselves with returning home from work and dinner, rather than stocking up on adventuring supplies and alchemical concoctions. This gadget, however, was neither of those things. The Artificer’s magnum opus… if he could get the darned thing to work.
Black soot stained his usually fiery red hair. He pulled the visor off and discarded it to the side carelessly. His face was equally stained, aside from the outline of his thick goggles around his eyes which hung around his neck for the time being. He paused momentarily to take a long overdue swig from a rune-engraved ceramic jug. He smacked his dry, cracked lips and exhaled a sigh of relief. The Gnome huffed a little as he turned back to his work. There was a long way to go before the contraption was anywhere near ready to work, but there was light at the end of the tunnel. The clockwork on the inside whirred and clicked as it spun, meaning he’d at least worked the circuitry correctly. At least until the power reached the receiver; an opening on the front of the machine. That little conundrum would have to wait. For now, he had other business to attend.
A shrill whistle rattled about his shop, as if on cue. Arno spun around to face the source of the whistling, only to be met with a cauldron-like container bubbling over, spilling a frothy red liquid all over the tiled floor around it.
“Blast-“ He muttered through gritted teeth as he threw the rest of his tools to the side and sprinted over to the pot. He fiddled with the controls for what seemed like an age, his panicked fingers failing to press all the right buttons. Then, with a clunk, he hit the kill switch. The pot was lifted up by mechanical arms, leaving a gap of a meter or two between it and the fire. The bubbles began to die down, slowly disappearing below the rim of the pot as the fire below flickered with less and less intensity. The Artificer grumbled quietly as he dipped a long metal spoon into the cauldron and began stirring.
“I instructed you to keep this below boiling point!” Arno chastised.. the pot? He watched on as the flame began to curl around and settled into the base of the fire pit. It slowly began to take the shape of a flaming kitten, carelessly kneading at the gravel and lava rocks that comprised the floor beneath the cauldron.
“Your whims are not my concern, Artificer,” the kitten purred, it’s voice smouldered with all the intensity of an inferno but lacked any of the intent, “You promised me fuel from the grandest of canopies, the cream of the crop.. you promised me fuel from the jungles of Kraw. And yet, I am forced to exert my own energies to keep your cauldron alight.” The kitten’s flames wreathed at the insult, it hissed and lashed out with a tiny, searing claw.
“Keahi.. you must understand, the beings of this plane, and all of the other mortal realms for that matter, are bound by currency. I cannot simply click my fingers and breathe a bundle of Kraw logs into life as you can with flame..” Arno gesticulated, imploring to the Elementals understanding, “I am short this month, meaning I do not have the funds to exchange-“
“THEN YOU WILL TAKE WHAT IS MINE AND BURN THE REST!” The kitten bellowed, it’s flames exploding into a roiling blaze, the concoction above threatening to spill over once more as the flames licked at the underside of the cauldron.
“Keahi.. please.. listen to me..” Timber grimaced and took a few steps back, his arms outstretched to shield himself from the flames, “As soon as I have this shipment delivered to the Imperial Guard.. I will import some lumber from Kraw and you will have your fuel.. I just need a little more time and you need a lot more patience. I am trying. Your constant complaints and demands are not helping the situation.”
The kitten settled down, the flames died down to little more than embers dancing along its burning orange skin, “You would do well to take heed of my patience and generosity, Timber, for I am rapidly losing both. I will reduce you to little more than your namesake and bring this hovel down about your ears. Remember our arrangement, Artificer.”
“As if you’d let me forget..” Arno grumbled as he turned back to the controls of his cauldron. The flick of a switch had the pot decant the reddish liquid into a large glass vial. It bubbled away, coating the inside of the glass as it conformed to the container and settled at the bottom, cooling slowly. He then placed the large vial into a holder that wrapped around the neck of the vessel. It swung to and fro for a moment before balancing. Arno retrieved a big wooden case from beneath the counter and opened it up, revealing a number of rounded, smaller glass containers. Finally, he placed a funnel into each of the smaller vials and began tipping the large vial to pour the thick red liquid into each funnel in increments of six. Once the six vials had been filled, he stoppered them with a cork and placed them back into the large wooden case, each vial held in place by a wooden frame lined with cushioning.
Once the vials were filled, he slammed the case shut and affixed a little label to the top and began scrawling a note for the recipient;
Sixty (6-0) Healing Potions.
Shake before consumption.
Consume within One (1) hour of opening.
Do not consume after six (6) months post delivery.
Do not mix with any other potions.
Illgot & Gains,
Arno Timber
Black soot stained his usually fiery red hair. He pulled the visor off and discarded it to the side carelessly. His face was equally stained, aside from the outline of his thick goggles around his eyes which hung around his neck for the time being. He paused momentarily to take a long overdue swig from a rune-engraved ceramic jug. He smacked his dry, cracked lips and exhaled a sigh of relief. The Gnome huffed a little as he turned back to his work. There was a long way to go before the contraption was anywhere near ready to work, but there was light at the end of the tunnel. The clockwork on the inside whirred and clicked as it spun, meaning he’d at least worked the circuitry correctly. At least until the power reached the receiver; an opening on the front of the machine. That little conundrum would have to wait. For now, he had other business to attend.
A shrill whistle rattled about his shop, as if on cue. Arno spun around to face the source of the whistling, only to be met with a cauldron-like container bubbling over, spilling a frothy red liquid all over the tiled floor around it.
“Blast-“ He muttered through gritted teeth as he threw the rest of his tools to the side and sprinted over to the pot. He fiddled with the controls for what seemed like an age, his panicked fingers failing to press all the right buttons. Then, with a clunk, he hit the kill switch. The pot was lifted up by mechanical arms, leaving a gap of a meter or two between it and the fire. The bubbles began to die down, slowly disappearing below the rim of the pot as the fire below flickered with less and less intensity. The Artificer grumbled quietly as he dipped a long metal spoon into the cauldron and began stirring.
“I instructed you to keep this below boiling point!” Arno chastised.. the pot? He watched on as the flame began to curl around and settled into the base of the fire pit. It slowly began to take the shape of a flaming kitten, carelessly kneading at the gravel and lava rocks that comprised the floor beneath the cauldron.
“Your whims are not my concern, Artificer,” the kitten purred, it’s voice smouldered with all the intensity of an inferno but lacked any of the intent, “You promised me fuel from the grandest of canopies, the cream of the crop.. you promised me fuel from the jungles of Kraw. And yet, I am forced to exert my own energies to keep your cauldron alight.” The kitten’s flames wreathed at the insult, it hissed and lashed out with a tiny, searing claw.
“Keahi.. you must understand, the beings of this plane, and all of the other mortal realms for that matter, are bound by currency. I cannot simply click my fingers and breathe a bundle of Kraw logs into life as you can with flame..” Arno gesticulated, imploring to the Elementals understanding, “I am short this month, meaning I do not have the funds to exchange-“
“THEN YOU WILL TAKE WHAT IS MINE AND BURN THE REST!” The kitten bellowed, it’s flames exploding into a roiling blaze, the concoction above threatening to spill over once more as the flames licked at the underside of the cauldron.
“Keahi.. please.. listen to me..” Timber grimaced and took a few steps back, his arms outstretched to shield himself from the flames, “As soon as I have this shipment delivered to the Imperial Guard.. I will import some lumber from Kraw and you will have your fuel.. I just need a little more time and you need a lot more patience. I am trying. Your constant complaints and demands are not helping the situation.”
The kitten settled down, the flames died down to little more than embers dancing along its burning orange skin, “You would do well to take heed of my patience and generosity, Timber, for I am rapidly losing both. I will reduce you to little more than your namesake and bring this hovel down about your ears. Remember our arrangement, Artificer.”
“As if you’d let me forget..” Arno grumbled as he turned back to the controls of his cauldron. The flick of a switch had the pot decant the reddish liquid into a large glass vial. It bubbled away, coating the inside of the glass as it conformed to the container and settled at the bottom, cooling slowly. He then placed the large vial into a holder that wrapped around the neck of the vessel. It swung to and fro for a moment before balancing. Arno retrieved a big wooden case from beneath the counter and opened it up, revealing a number of rounded, smaller glass containers. Finally, he placed a funnel into each of the smaller vials and began tipping the large vial to pour the thick red liquid into each funnel in increments of six. Once the six vials had been filled, he stoppered them with a cork and placed them back into the large wooden case, each vial held in place by a wooden frame lined with cushioning.
Once the vials were filled, he slammed the case shut and affixed a little label to the top and began scrawling a note for the recipient;
Sixty (6-0) Healing Potions.
Shake before consumption.
Consume within One (1) hour of opening.
Do not consume after six (6) months post delivery.
Do not mix with any other potions.
Illgot & Gains,
Arno Timber