by Deck Davis
Stercore Herb
Properties: Laxative
Edium Herb
Properties: Healing
- Stercore Herb added to Herb Lore reference. These will now be labelled when you see them.
Now he was really getting somewhere! He looked around him, and realized that it was now much easier to tell apart the stercore herbs from the edium. That was a very good thing, given that stercore herbs had a laxative effect. It almost seemed cruel that they looked so much like edium.
It was time to go brew some healing potions. As much as he liked the idea of mixing a stercore herb for Cason and watching the old guy get glued to his latrine, he spent the next hour picking edium herbs until his coat pocket was full.
- Gauge skill increased by 80%!
The afternoon light was escaping him now. He’d already been working non-stop for hours, and weariness began to take hold. There was still too much to do, though. He needed to get back and fil the edium jar. Maybe he’d have enough time to practice making a few more potions at the same time.
As he turned to look at the hut perched at the top of the hill, he heard something running across the grass. He half expected to hear the shrill scream of a banshee bitch. He pulled his dagger from his belt and turned to face whoever was running at him.
It wasn’t a banshee this time. Instead, two creatures sprinted across the plains. They were two-foot-tall and had pointy ears that made them look like little devils. They had green, scaly skin, and they were completely naked. This fact was apparent from the way their cocks swung from side to side as they charged at him, squealing in a high-pitched way that sounded like a dog barking after breathing helium.
Cock Imp – Level 2
When they reached him, he swung his dagger at one of them. The little imp was so quick that Jake found himself swiping thin air. They danced and jumped around him, every so often scratching him with their yellow nails. He swung his dagger again and again without scoring a hit.
5HP lost! 122/127
5HP lost! 118/127
5HP lost! 113/127
This wasn’t working. The imps didn’t have much in the way of attacks, but man, they were quick. Jake just wasn’t good enough with a dagger to hit them yet. At this rate, they’d slowly grind him down until his health bar was empty.
He put his dagger in his belt. He strafed from side to side and avoided the imps’ attacks, all the while watching the way they moved.
When he thought he’d got the timing right, he lunged for one of them and tried to grab it. Instead of grabbing its arm as he’d intended, he found himself holding it by its four-inch cock. Feeling more than a little disgusted but not wanting to relinquish his hold, he lifted the imp in the air by its cock and swung it into the ground.
Stunned, the imp tried to move, but Jake stamped on its head again and again until its skull resembled a crushed melon.
- Creative kill! Exp bonus added!
“Not so fast now, are you?” he said.
He killed the other imp the same way, though thankfully he grabbed this one by the arm. Soon both of the little pests were dead, and the field was stained by their brown blood. He wiped the bottom of his boots on the grass and got the brain stains out from them.
- 90% EXP!
*Level up to level 2!*
- HP increased to 145
- Stamina increased to 180
- 5 attribute points gained
The little SOB’s had yielded far more exp than the banshee had, though he guessed that it was because of the way he’d killed them. He could have just kept swinging his dagger and eventually he’d have got one of them, yet by grabbing one of them by the cock, as sick as it made him feel, he’d earned a bonus to his exp. From now on, he was going to have to keep a look out for different ways to pummel the crap out of things.
Given the cock imps were naked, there wasn’t anything to loot. The next thing was to spend his attribute points. With his growing knowledge of how to become effective at alchemy, he spent his five points on intelligence, charisma and luck. Before long he’d need to bulk his endurance up a little, he guessed, but for now, alchemy was his priority.
After that, there was just one thing left to do. He took a healing potion from his pocket. He didn’t need to drink it since levelling up had replenished his HP, but he had another idea.
He uncorked the vial and poured the weak health potion on the ground. He scooped up the crushed head of one of the imps, and he held it against the vial so that the creature’s blood dripped in.
- Cock Imp blood added to inventory
What was he going to do with it? He didn’t have a damn clue. It just seemed like one day, there might be something it could be used for. With half of the vial full, he decided to get back to the hut. If he hurried, there was a chance, slim as slim could be, that he’d be able to make the potions in time.
Chapter Seven
When he got back to the hut he was ready to start brewing, but he held off a little. So far he’d just been mixing the edium and the base with the care of a drunk trying to make a whiskey cocktail. He needed to take more time, to be a little more…alchemistic about things.
He laid a few edium leaves on the counter in front of him. He used his gauge skill, but it told him only the barest facts that he already knew; that this was used for healing. All well and good but until now, when he’d mixed the leaves, they hadn’t been dissolving as well as they should. So…what was he missing?
He looked at Cason’s array of alchemy tools. There were vials of various sizes, some of them stained with black scorch marks. A wooden tray held metal spoons with holes in the bases, and next to it was a torch-like device that Jake assumed was used to burn herbs. Near the torch, he saw a small shiny knife that looked like a surgeon’s scalpel.
Maybe that was it. He picked up the scalpel. He chewed his lips while he stared at an edium leaf, pondering which bit to cut. As he did, a shot of adrenaline hit his chest.
Preparation skill learned!
A true alchemist knows that not all parts of an herb are fit to go in the pot. By preparing your materials properly, you can use them to maximum effect.
The sun had fled now, leaving the sky outside a deep shade of grey, broken only by the faint twinkling of stars. Cason would be back soon. Just as he had the thought, the door of the hut flew open.
He spun around, scalpel in hand, only to see that Faei stood in the doorway. She wore brown leathers and held a bow in her hand. Her armor was covered in blood, and in her other hand she held the corpses of rabbits tied together by string. Golden light pulsed up and down her red hair. He knew it couldn’t be possible, but her flowing red knots looked even longer today, almost beyond her knees and to her shins. He wondered why she kept it so long. It looked great, but it couldn’t have been practical. Maybe that was why she knotted it so much. Her big lips were bloodied, as if someone had hit her.
“Had a bit of trouble with this one, but I got the bugger! Fire up the cooking pot and let’s get some stew going,” she said, swinging the rabbits in front of her and splattering the floor with blood. “Hang on, where’s owl-face?”
“Cason went to help some farmer’s wife.”
“Soppy old git. Bet he said he was going to charge them too, didn’t he?”
“He was pretty insistent on it.”
“He always says that. And then he backs down and works for free. He’s not such a mean, rusting old crank handle all the time, you know.”
“No? He’s doing a great job acting like one.”
“You’ll get used to Cason. He says he doesn’t want anything to do with people, but he keeps collecting waifs and strays. Take it you’ve seen the birds outside? And before me, he had a guy living here. He took him on as an apprentice.”
“Where is he now?”
“Gone. Stole a load of gonils and ran in the middle of the night. When Cason was telling me about it he didn’t seem angry, more just…disappointed.”
“I’ll keep an open mind ab
out him then. Good hunting?” asked Jake.
“Got a big beast of a deer outside. I better butcher it before bed, don’t want the meat spoiling.”
Jake liked that Faei had skills. Real proper skills, things that were actually useful. He also liked that she wasn’t like the girls from back home. He knew that not all girls were girly, that was a stereotype best left in the fifties. But Faei was a cut above them all. She knew how to shoot stuff with her bow, she wasn’t afraid of blood or dirt, and she knew how to butcher an animal. He would have loved to have seen how she’d acted in high school back home, if a portal had somehow sent her there when she was younger. Man, that would have been funny.
Faei swung her leather bolt holder around so that it was in front of her and hanging by the strap. She tapped her fingers across the bolts and counted them. When she counted seven, she took one out and set it on the floor. It seemed she always needed to have an even number of bolts.
“What are you doing with Cason’s things?” asked Faei.
“He’s got an order he needs to finish,” said Jake. “Decided I’d help him out.”
“And you think you can make a potion that isn’t weaker than the milk from a goblin queen’s tit? Come on then, master alchemist, let’s see how badly you mess this up.”
Although she said it with a grin on her face, he was determined to prove her wrong. He knew that healing potions were the simplest an alchemist could make, so he wasn’t going to give Faei the satisfaction of watching him fail.
This time he took care in preparing the edium leaves. His preparation skill gave him faint guidelines on where to cut, almost as if lines were drawn on the herb to instruct him where to slice. Then, mixing the quantities of edium and base as best he could, he brewed potions. The hut filled with a sweet smell, one much stronger than during his earlier brewing sessions.
It took him three sweat-filled hours, and he’d smelled the sweet herbs so much that he hated the aroma. When he mixed his last potion he took a deep breath, stretched his muscles, and looked at what he’d created.
Healing Potion – [Mediocre] x8
Brewing increased 140%!
**Brewing level up to level 4**
- Brewing speed inc to 4/50
-Potion quality inc to 9/50
Preparation increased 100%!
**Preparation level up to level 2**
- Cut accuracy inc to 2/50
- Steady hands inc to 2/50
Herb preparation was intricate work, and he’d already found that it was easy to destroy an herb when cutting it. The more he practiced his preparation the stronger the cut guidelines would appear on the herbs in front of him, and the steadier his hands became. He felt like he was gathering the base skills of a true alchemist, and it felt pretty good.
It was gone midnight by the time Cason stomped into the hut. His shirt was covered in animal shit. He looked like he’d helped deliver a baby cow. He looked around the hut, his gaze turning from Jake, who was sat on a chair and Faei, who was cleaning her bow. He scowled, and the burn scars on his upper cheeks stretched.
“What have you two been up to while daddy was knee-deep in shit?” he said.
“Did you save the woman?” asked Jake.
“Course I did!”
“And did you charge her for your services?”
“Well that’s another story, my boy,” he replied. “And I’m in no mood for story time tonight. Faei, fetch me a brew. I feel like killing my brain a little. It’s too big anyway.”
As Faei set her bow to the side and wandered over to the counter and clinked the vials, Cason noticed the eight mediocre potions sat waiting for him. Jake had set them in a line. He’d thought about finding a ribbon and bow and wrapping them up, but he couldn’t be bothered.
“See you got back from hunting in time to help old Cason,” the alchemist said to Faei.
More vials clinked as Faei hunted for some of Cason’s trademark moonshine.
Jake realized he was clenching his fist in anticipation of one of the vials falling. He tried to relax.
“Wasn’t me,” she called over her shoulder. “The cock-imp made them.”
“You?” said Cason, looking at Jake. “You mean you stopped the shit that counts as your brain from dibbling out of your ears? I don’t believe it!”
He walked over to the healing potions and looked at them. He took the vial off one of them and sniffed it.
“Not bad,” he said. “Not too bad at all. Course, these things wouldn’t do shit to someone who was really hurt, but it might do the trick if a merchant gets attacked by cockimps.”
“I’m gonna take that as a ‘well done Jake, you smart son of a bitch.’”
“Take it however you want if it pleases your ego.”
He then grabbed another vial, opened it, and tipped the healing potion down the drain. Jake leapt out of his seat as he watched Cason destroy the fruits of his hard work.
“Has your senile old mind finally shriveled up??”
“These aren’t bad, you little shitbag, but I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I can’t have people saying that Whispering Carver ships out below-par sludge.”
Anger flared in Jake. Several sweat-filled, mind-numbing hours were leaking into the gutter.
“You ungrateful dickweed.”
Cason beamed a smile at him. “Come on, lad. It’s not all bad. You must have improved your skills to do all this, and that counts for something, eh? You know what they say; you have to bed a dozen whores before you find a princess.”
“Nobody says that, and you’re being offensive again. We talked about that,” said Faei. She turned around and held up a large vial of moonshine. “How about you guys hammer your brains into submission and give me a little peace and quiet?”
Cason spread his arms wide. “Come to daddy, you little vial of brain-numbing loveliness! I’m in the mood to celebrate. My little lad here has grown balls. Before long he’s going to be brewing potions that would heal a sailor with knob rot.”
The vial of moonshine they drank that night was a particularly lethal concoction. Before long, Jake found his words slurring and his body swaying as if he stood on the deck of a boat sailing through a storm. Cason surrendered himself to oblivion. He spent the rest of the night alternating between telling jokes that would make the devil blush, bragging about his past conquests, and praising Jake for his work.
As Jake’s eyelids started to feel heavier and heavier, he refused the last shot of moonshine that Faei tried to force on him.
“Think I better get some sleep,” he slurred.
“Quite right, you little pearl-bollocked shitpouch. Get your rest. You’re gonna need it, lad,” said Cason.
“Why?”
“Because from tomorrow, old daddy Cason is gonna teach you some real alchemy.”
Chapter Eight
What was real alchemy, anyway? Was it brewing poisons that stripped the flesh from people’s bones? Concocting potions that made muscles swell to twice their size? With the number of different herbs out there, the possibilities were endless. To Cason though, it seemed that real alchemy meant something else.
“You’re sending me out to get a book?” said Jake.
The morning had brought with it an icy wind that sneaked into the hut through parts where the wood walls didn’t meet. It chilled his skin but he was glad to feel it, because his skull pounded as if a dozen angry apes had been jumping up and down on it. A cold draught and a big drink of water was a good hangover cure, he’d found.
Cason grinned, though the expression clashed with the stern look his eyebrows gave him. His slicked back hair looked especially greasy today.
“Not just a book. The book. The only book an alchemist need concern him with. The kind where, if a brigand gives you a choice between keeping your cock or the book, you have to think twice.”
“It’s quite important, then. I get that. But what exactly are you sending me out for?”
“How does a cook remember all the dishes he lear
ns?”
“He goes on the internet?” said Jake.
“What in G’ydor’s name is that?”
“Never mind. I don’t know, wise master Cason. How the does a cook remember his dishes?”
“He has a recipe book of course, you dickcheese. And that’s what you’re going out to get.”
“You’re sending me to the book store.”
“If only it were that easy, young pupil. This isn’t just an ordinary book. Every alchemist has his own recipe book, and you can only store a number of recipes in it equivalent to your level. Not your alchemist level, but your overall level. You’re level two, right?”
