Chapter 23: Fenian's Request

Morning came early for Theo. Darkness blanketed Broken Tusk, the depth of the gloom telling him it was well before dawn. Tresk snored away on the far end of the room and he left her to her dreams. The alchemist spent those early hours reviewing his notes and making new ones in the margins of his books. He was already beyond anything they could teach him, but he grasped at their words, looking for hidden things that he might have overlooked. Frustrating hours passed by with no hint as to what lay beyond the base-level distillation. The irritation he felt vanished when he considered the endless possibilities of experimentation.

Tresk rose as dawn drew closer, bounding from the bedroom with an excitement Theo couldn’t help but match. The day that sat before them was filled with excitement, not just because of his Lord Administrator title but the return of the merchant. Fenian was more honest than the image he had in his mind of a traveling merchant. It was a relationship of convenience, he realized, but the Elf’s coin spoke volumes.

Theo removed the pot of soup from his inventory, serving out the last scoops into two bowls before placing the kettle on the [Flame Artifice]. He cranked it to the lowest setting and stared as the small flame danced to life. A smile spread across his face as he dug into his soup, no longer needing to tend the wood fire.

“I’ll never get over that,” Tresk said, giggling.

“My thoughts, exactly. No more smoke in my eyes,” Theo said. “You’re training the adventurers again, right?”

“Luras thinks they’ll be ready after today,” Tresk said. “I should hit level 10, and then we’re going to run the dungeon.”

Theo felt his heart jump in his chest. To venture into the swamp was one thing, but delving into the dungeon was another. He let out a heavy sigh, steadying himself before responding. “You’re going to need more potions.”

Tresk took a mouthful of her soup before talking, gnashing noisily as she spoke. “We’ll be fine. The first floors are easy.”

“If you say so,” Theo said, nodding. “I need to ask Fenian if he has dimensional bags for the shop.”

The alchemist had a few crates of reagents that needed to be thrown out. Some of his early collections were rotting in the corners of the lab, unable to hold out without the stasis of his inventory. He didn’t lament their loss, but wanted to prevent it from happening again. Fenian would demand an absurd amount of potions when he stopped by today. Space would become a premium within the lab.

The pair sat there, drinking their tea and eating their food. They talked about the town, and how he could leverage his new title for its betterment. The only authority he had was regarding the upgrade system, but the northern mine was looking more reasonable. He was certain that the new title gave him the right to strike a claim for the city, hire laborers, and excavate the stones required to pave the muddy streets. The sensation of mud in his moccasins was still unnerving.

A knock came from the front before dawn. Theo lit the candles downstairs, opening it to find a fresh-faced Azrug beaming from the early morning gloom.

“You’re early,” Theo said.

“Too excited,” Azrug said, dancing in place. “Barely slept.”

“We’re having tea upstairs, if you’re interested.”

The boy followed Theo upstairs, finding a chair next to Tresk and taking a cup of the [Moss Nettle] tea. He seemed at home among people from Broken Tusk. Even if the alchemist wasn’t truly from here, the citizens considered him one of their own.

“We’re getting walls, soon,” Azrug said, nodding to himself. He sipped gingerly on the tea, making a sour face every time. “Someone saw a wolf in town last night?”

Tresk set her tea down and knit her brow. “Seriously?”

Azrug nodded vigorously. “Xam told me about it. Mean-looking Marsh Wolf just trotting down the main road. An adventurer drove it off, but it got away.”

That’s incredibly dangerous, Theo. Don’t tell Azrug, but that’s a sign of a monster that’s been out of the dungeon too long. It lost its fear of people, Tresk said, keeping the words from Azrug.

Theo cupped his hand in his chin, weighing his options. The only solution he saw was to get the walls up sooner. If they couldn’t do that, he’d stretch his authority to create a militia. He brought his thoughts into words, saying, “Broken Tusk doesn’t have any guards, does it?”

“None,” Azrug blurted. “No night watch, no militia, no irregular army—nothing.”

“That has to change,” Theo said.

The group fell into a somber silence as the alchemist went back into his thoughts. Broken Tusk had too many problems to fix all at once. It was easy for him to solve an issue that was directly related to alchemy such as the water, or the tannery. But to solve a logistical problem related to the defense of a small town, cut off from greater civilization, was another. He thought back to the media he consumed back on Earth, and the depictions of medieval towns. There always seemed to be a night watch, patrolling the streets after hours, but standing in a real medieval town was another story. The guards would need wages, lodging, and a command structure.

“Broken Tusk doesn’t have military people. That’s the problem,” Tresk said with a shrug.

Theo tilted his head. That wasn’t entirely true. He recalled Aarok, the new adventurer that came to buy potions from his shop a few days ago. He was well-prepared, and claimed to have some experience training for the Qavelli Irregulars, whatever that was. A plan was forming in his head, but it needed time to stew.

They let those thoughts fade away in favor of Azrug’s hopes. He was excited to get a job out of the fields. The boy imagined himself working the land for the rest of his life, never able to realize his dreams, although he admitted that no grand schemes had formed in his head yet. Breakfast soon ended, dawn breaking outside, and the boy took up his station downstairs. Tresk departed soon after, pressing her forehead against Theo’s before she left.

Theo joined Azrug downstairs, not willing to start any projects before Fenian delivered his demands. He wanted to pick the boy’s brain about Aarok.

“Have you met Aarok?” Theo asked, leaning against the counter.

“Now that’s a question. He’s worked the fields with the other laborers before. Silent guy,” Azrug said, kicking his feet up on the counter and reclining. “Why?”

“Did he ever talk about his days as a soldier?”

“You’ll have to ask Luras about that,” Azrug said. “I like a bit of gossip as much as the next person in Broken Tusk, but he’s silent—like I said.”

Theo sighed. “If we want a town guard, we need soldiers.”

“Oh. I’m finally picking up on the annoyingly vague way you’re speaking,” Azrug said, scoffing. “That’s an expensive venture, I’d think.”

“Five full-time guards, maybe. Two copper a day in wages,” Theo said. “We’d bleed nearly a silver a week just in defense.”

“I mean, why not just get volunteers?”

“Volunteers would work as hard as volunteers work,” Theo said. “When you’re young, you can ask your friends to help you move for pizza and beer. But when you get older, you’re better off hiring a moving company.”

“I understood half of that,” Azrug said.

“People in Broken Tusk are poor. Safety is one thing, but they deserve a wage,” Theo said.

Azrug shrugged, pulling the book from his satchel. He was only a few words in when the bell on the door rang, the Elf merchant stepping in and grinning. “Good morning.”

Azrug’s face flushed, and he quickly pulled his feet off of the counter, stowing his book away and standing at attention. “Good morning, sir.”

“How is your stay going?” Theo asked.

Fenian managed a weak smile. “What did you call this place? A mud pit. It’s like staying in a mud pit.”

“I’m working on the mud problem,” Theo said.

“Lord Administrator. Yes, I’ve heard the rumors at the tavern,” Fenian said, chuckling. “You’re destined for great things.”

Theo didn’t know if he was being sarcastic, and he didn’t care. “Before we get to business, I have a few items I’d like.”

“I won’t refuse a sale.”

“I need a placeable dimensional storage container, something like—” Theo said, cut off as Fenian produced an item from his inventory.

“Like a dimensional storage crate,” Fenian said. He smiled, holding the wooden crate up in his left hand. “100 slots, but once you put something inside, you cannot add it to your inventory. It also gets impossibly heavy once even a single slot is occupied.”

“How much?” Theo asked.

Fenian smiled. “I love the people in Broken Tusk. There’s no dancing around the trees with you folks. Right to the point. In Qavell I’d get 10 silver for this, but you can have it for 5.”

“Why would you take a loss?” Azrug asked, blurting the words out.

“If you’re interested in how mercantile works, young Half-Ogre, I’ll be happy to instruct you.”

Azrug froze under the man’s gaze. Theo stepped in. “The boy is eager to learn. Please instruct.”

“I won’t take a loss on this item. If the alchemist buys it for 5 silver, I’ll make a silver. That doesn’t make it worth the trip this far south, but it does something else entirely. Do you know what that is?” Fenian asked.

Azrug got over his shyness, the eagerness to learn about trading burning bright in his eyes. “To establish a relationship. Theo is a new, untapped market and you want to exploit it. You want him to remember that you were generous so that he’ll work with you.”

“He’s a natural,” Fenian said. “Do you have your cores yet, boy?”

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“Not yet,” Azrug said, shuffling his feet.

“Hold me to my word on this, but you’ll make an excellent trader when the day comes,” Fenian said. “I’ll turn a massive profit on the potions I bought from the alchemist, a fact he knows, and giving him a break on smaller items does indeed establish a better relationship. Here’s a tip for you, young Azrug, never give your items away for free. You’ll be tempted to think that you’re sweetening your clients up, but it does the opposite. They’ll think you’re cheap. They’ll think your merchandise is not worth paying for, and you’ll lose your reputation.”

Theo didn’t know what he thought about being used as an example in this exchange. If it helped Azrug achieve his dreams, then he was alright with it. The boy had a way with people, and he had a feeling that Fenian was a bigger deal back north than he let on. Free advice from a master trader was something he couldn’t deprive the boy of.

“Understood, sir,” Azrug said, nodding. He knit his brow, distilling the information that Fenian gave down to a concise point and regurgitating it. “Set expectations with clients for the future and deliver.”

“There’s a good lad,” Fenian said. “You have a mind for this kind of work.”

Theo produced five silver pieces and placed them on the counter. He couldn’t help but laugh at the merchant’s directness. “Sold.”

Fenian placed the crate on the counter and scooped the coins up. “Now, are you ready for my order? Do you need some parchment?”

Theo tapped his temple with his finger. “It goes right up here. No worries.”

“High [Wisdom] and all that… Right. I need to return to Qavell to secure funds for this transaction, but I’ll need the following from you in a week’s time. 500 of each lesser restoration potions at 20 copper apiece,” Fenian said, grinning. “Do you need to sit down? No? Can you produce stat-enhancement potions?”

Theo needed to sit down. He swayed on the spot for a moment, trying to process the absurd amount of potions the Elf already wanted. And he wanted more. “I’ve made [Lesser Vigor Potions].”

“Do you have a sample?” Fenian asked.

Theo still had 3 of the potions in his inventory. He produced one and handed it over to the trader. Fenian rolled the potion over in his hands, humming for a moment before returning it to the alchemist. “As I’ve said before, you’re a gem. Plus 5 vigor for an hour is absurd for low-level people. Those who are rich enough to afford this kind of potion give it to their kids to train their combat cores. The ingredients are absurdly hard to find in the north, but I’m guessing…”

“The swamp provides,” Theo said, managing a weak smile.

“This one is a tall order, so I’ll only ask for 50 of each stat—or whatever you can manage in the time I’ve allotted. 50 copper each,” Fenian said. “How does that—oh my, look at that. It generated a quest.”

[Fenian’s Request]

Quest

Fenian Feintleaf has requested that you produce the following for an order.

Objectives:

500 [Lesser Healing Potions]

500 [Lesser Stamina Potions]

500 [Lesser Mana Potions]

50 [Lesser Strength Potions] (Optional)

50 [Lesser Dexterity Potions] (Optional)

50 [Lesser Vigor Potions] (Optional)

50 [Lesser Intelligence Potions] (Optional)

50 [Lesser Wisdom Potions] (Optional)

Time Remaining:

7 days

Reward:

Random Epic Alchemist Tool

“You really are blessed,” Fenian said, laughing. “I think I need to revise my theory about your gift… It’s much more potent than I thought before.”

“We’ll do it,” Theo said, nodding. “A week is plenty of time and that's… That’s a lot of money. I do have a request, though.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it, then.”

“Coin is fine for the restoration potions, but I’d like to be paid in monster cores for the stat potions,” Theo said.

“I can do that,” Fenian said, reaching out to shake Theo’s hand. It was a symbolic gesture, seeing as the system already made him accept the quest. “I’ll bring my stock of level 30 monster cores when I return. We can also do coin, if you change your mind.”

“Honestly, Fenian,” Theo said, letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to sound weird, but you’ve been a huge blessing on my shop.”

Fenian smiled, shrugging. “Think of it as the start of a very profitable relationship. I’m headed north now. I’ll return in a week.”

Fenian bowed before turning on the spot and leaving the shop. Azrug was counting on his fingers, muttering to himself. “Boss. That’s three gold for the restoration potions.” His face flushed.

“We’ll need it,” Theo said. “This town is going to get very expensive.”

The shock of the massive order left Azrug unable to celebrate. He sat back down in his chair, releasing a heavy sigh. Theo left him there, marching upstairs to deposit his new storage item. He placed the [Large Dimensional Crate] in the room’s corner, snatching up the junk and stowing it away. The crate had an inventory screen like his inventory system. He could even transfer items directly into the crate from his inventory. The top of the wooden crate was just a black void. When he went to reach inside, the screen simply popped up.

“Care for an errand?” Theo said, emerging into the shop.

Azrug was still in shock. “I could use the air.”

Theo gave him twenty copper coins to retrieve a bed from the carpenter. As the boy left, the alchemist remembered ‌he didn’t ask the trader about [Rogue Cores] for Tresk. It seemed like she was a back-burner item for him, something that made him sick to his stomach. She was happy with their arrangement, but he wanted to see her become something great. His goal was to become the best distillation expert in the world, and hers should be aligned.

The alchemist left the front door unlocked, finding his way to the lab and casting his gaze over it. While it was a temporary fix, the clutter was gone. Fifty of the crate’s slots were now occupied thanks to the random garbage that sat around his lab, but it wasn’t out in the open. He rearranged the tables, shoving his weight against them to create a line of two tables near the stills, and a block of tables in the center of the lab. The table that he pushed against the window earlier stayed there, and he moved the four chairs around it. He’d much prefer looking out the window while he took his meals.

The gentle tinkle of the bell downstairs drifted through the lab. When Theo went to see if it was a customer, he found a burly Half-Ogre scratching his head at the threshold. “It won’t fit.”

“Allow me,” Theo said, pressing his hand against the bed. It vanished into his inventory.

The man shrugged, turning and leaving. Azrug came in after, laughing. “I used all your coin to hire that man and get the bed. They said it was the softest they had—goose feathers or something.”

“Thank you, Azrug,” Theo said, smiling. “Man the shop, I’m going to rearrange my bedroom.”

Azrug plopped into his seat, pulling his book out as Theo went back upstairs. He rolled the bedroll up and set it in the corner, pulling the new bed from his inventory and arranging it in the room. There was enough space for them to sleep foot-to-foot with a wide walkway in between. Upon laying on the bed, he found ‌it to be incredibly soft. Compared to his straw-stuffed mattress, this was a luxury. He popped his head downstairs and smiled at his shopkeeper.

“Go buy another one,” Theo said, throwing twenty more copper with an underhand toss. It clattered to the ground.

Azrug groaned, rising to his feet and disappearing out the door again. Theo would have felt bad, but the shop was slow and he wanted a bed for himself. He returned upstairs while he waited for the boy to return, laying on Tresk’s bed and letting out a heavy sigh. He accepted the straw bed as a fact of life, something that was standard in Broken Tusk. If someone told him there were decent beds before, he’d have snatched one up. The bell rang downstairs, and the annoyed Half-Ogre stared inside and waited for Theo to add the bed to his inventory.

“Thank you,” Theo said, chuckling.

The alchemist swapped the straw bed for his fancy bed and smiled at the scene. When he returned downstairs Azrug groaned. “Do you need a third bed for some weird reason?”

“No, I’m off to pay my laborers,” Theo said. “Watch the shop.”

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