Vicorra was glad to have a reason to leave the tavern as she might otherwise have spent her whole day there; however, she was shortly reminded of exactly why staying there had seemed so appealing before. The moment she stepped outside, the light of the sun was harsh on her eyes, which were far more accustomed to darkness. She pushed onward, however, because she was almost certain her booth would be taken by now. Carl, on the other hand, was less than thrilled to be leaving Zib in a crowded place full of breakable objects after what he did at the brothel.
Almost immediately, the group ran into a fair-skinned elf in a heavy, brown robe.
“Hey guys,” Nessa said, looking exhausted. “I’m just gonna head back to the uh… boat, yeah,” she seemed to be leaning heavily on her staff and didn’t even notice the new member of the group.
“Who was that?” Vicorra asked.
“That’s our Cooglaran Druid,” Carl explained. “Her name’s Nessa.”
Burk, seeing Vicorra’s concerned expression, added, “She’s nothing like those idiots at the tavern. She’s really nice.” He then looked to see how far away Nessa had gotten before whispering, “and really old,” to which Vicorra responded with a giggle, covering her mouth with one hand as the sound slipped out.
“I suppose I’ll introduce myself to her later,” the violet-skinned woman replied with a small smile. Burk gave her a tusked grin in return. She then lifted her hood to cover her eyes and continued squinting at her newfound companions. “Do you think we could go inside somewhere? This sun is starting to hurt my eyes.”
Burk looked around at the buildings in the immediate vicinity, but it was Carl who gave the first suggestion: “I think we should find our priest and then try recruiting more crew,” said the orange-robed mage. “I saw her and the druid heading towards the artisans’ shops.”
“Well then, to the artisans’ shops!” Burk declared, attempting to emulate the leaderly aura that radiates off of Athastar. It wasn’t a particularly impressive display, but it earned another chuckle from Vicorra and Carl was already planning on going that way, so the green monk took it as a small victory. It was at this point that Burk noticed all the people in the crowd staring at him in confusion and slight fear. He realized his appearance was far from normal and he shrunk into himself, as though attempting to hide from all the stares without moving from his spot. Carl, seeing his companion’s awkwardness and not wanting to start feeling some sort of shame by association, placed his hand on the monk’s shoulder and pushed him in the direction of the artisans.
Doc had found her way to yet another forge, dragging Nessa inside when she saw the impressive materials the master smith was using in his wares. The old man who ran the place had greeted them happily and welcomed the dwarf to browse as she saw fit. Nessa felt uncomfortable, having no desire to shop and no knowledge of the various processing techniques and crafting styles the two discussed, so when the heat of the forge and her heavy, dark coat became unbearable, she decided to step out and perhaps head back to the ship for some water, letting Doc know before she left, of course.
The devout dwarf, after accumulating quite a large stash of materials, made her way back out into the street. She passed a large group of strange, heavily armored folk who looked oddly similar to Burk. She only had a moment to ponder the implications of this before they vanished into the crowd. Shrugging off the strange group, she proceeded towards a type of shop she’d not seen before. The carving on the sign was of an odd wheel with short spikes around its edges and a small tool, long and metallic with a flat end and a bulbous, round end. She cautiously pushed open the door to the shop, which, unlike any of the other shops’ doors, made a soft jingling noise as she entered. She looked around the frame of the door and saw a bell hanging above her that had a rope tied to it that went over a wheel at the corner of the door and down to a little switch that the door had flipped when she opened it. It was peculiar and fascinating.
“Be there in just a moment,” said a high-pitched, nasally voice from farther into the shop. Doc looked around the room, seeing all manner of strange metal and wood structures, some with glass lenses and some with many pins holding them together. Her eyes came to rest on a large pair of goggles sitting on the desk in front of her. They were covered in many more lenses, as though they belonged to some strange insect. The person who came out from the back room, however, was no such being. He was a short and spritely fellow who stepped lightly as he scurried up to the stool across the desk from Doc. “Ah, hello young blacksmith,” The little old gnome said as he hopped up onto the stool behind his desk. “What can I do for you today?”
“How… How did you know my trade?” Doc asked in awe, still trying to comprehend the purpose of this shop.
“Your trade?” The gnome said, cocking an eyebrow. “No no, what I can see on your hands and in the muscles of your shoulders is your craft. Your posture and garments tell me your trade, holy one. What I can’t find out by your appearance is your purpose in coming here.”
Doc was truly surprised. This little artisan was able to see her life story as clearly as he could see her face. She then realized that he was speaking directly to her and awaiting a response. “Well, I’m not entirely sure what you do here,” she said honestly.
“I am an inventor!” the shopkeep said, holding his arms wide and gesturing towards all the mechanisms and structures strewn about the room. “I make many things from many things that do many things.”
“Can you teach me?” Doc asked, smile wide, eyes wide, arms near her body and violently shaking with excitement. She was a master at the forge, with thread and needle, and with the handling of glass and gems, but to make a machine like those she saw around her, that could walk or shoot or trap someone… that would be the pinnacle of mortal creation.
“That I cannot,” the gnome said, shaking his head and shrugging sympathetically. “It is a difficult craft, especially for those who rely so heavily on magic.”
“But I do not just use spells!” Doc interjected. “I make armor and fight and-”
“Tell me something in this shop that can be improved, and I will teach you.”
“Hm?” She was shocked at his incredibly sudden change of tone. She had thought perhaps some form of compensation would have been in order, but he did not seem to share this idea.
“Point out to me a single thing within this shop that can be improved, and tell me how, and I will come along on whatever voyage or pilgrimage has brought you here, and I will become your mentor. I will also give you a discount on your first purchase,” the gnome explained.
Immediately, Doc replied, “The bell on the door.”
“What?”
“The bell on the door. You’ve made it inefficiently. Just lower the bell so the door hits it when it opens. Then you don’t run the risk of the string stretching or the lever snapping off or the tackle slipping,” She elaborated further. “It’s actually been bothering me quite a bit since I entered.”
“I… I see,” the gnome said, visibly flustered. “Well, I suppose you’ve succeeded. What’ll be your first purchase?”
Doc thought hard about this, unlike her response to his initial challenge. What machine would she need that her studies and skills wouldn’t provide for her? She thought about voyaging on the high seas and exploring islands and her wonderful crewmates and Zib. She thought about what dangers she might face and what obstacles they might see and what advantages most of her crew had over her. She then thought about how she wouldn’t get to control water like she did after finding her Coog Pearl for quite some time, meaning if she fell into the sea, she would be quite likely to drown.
“Can you make me something that would allow me to get to high places quickly?” She finally asked, looking hopeful and doubtful.
“That depends,” replied the gnome, “how much do you weigh?”
Doc glared at the small creature, clenching her fist, but quickly realized the inquiry likely related to the item she sought and backed down slightly before giving him the information he requested and adding that she would also be wearing some quite heavy armor in the foreseeable future. He nodded and ran into the back room. While the artisan was away, the door’s bell jingled softly once more. Doc turned to see who was entering, and it was none other than Burk and Carl, followed by someone clad in dark robes.
“There you are!” Carl said, seemingly exhausted. “Why are you in the last place we would ever look for you?” He was sweating quite heavily. Though he was not as heavily dressed as Nessa had been, his robes were still fairly hot, and the forges and foundries and workshops weren’t helping in the slightest.
“Well hello to you, too,” Doc replied, making a face at Carl. “I’m here because this place is amazing and I want to learn how to be an inventor just like the owner. Also, I’m getting a new tool.”
“What tool?” Burk asked, legitimately curious in his friend’s endeavors.
“A grappling hook!” the mechanically-minded gnome cheered as he entered the room once more. He was holding up a crossbow that was somewhat on the small side that seemed to have a sort of cage over it as well as a large metal drum on the side. Sticking out of the front was a sharp spike with four barbs. “It can fire fifty feet of chain and hook onto any hard material with a ledge or lip, then it winds up on its own at about two feet per second.”
“This is amazing!” Doc exclaimed, staring at her new toy. “How much do I owe you?”
“Twelve gold,” the gnome said. Doc happily tossed him a small pouch containing exactly the requested amount. “Excellent! Thank you very much for your patronage, and I suppose I should deal with these new arrivals before I close up shop and come along with you.
“Oh, we’re with her, and we’re just browsing,” said Carl, not at all impressed by the trinkets scattered across the shelves of this little shack. His master could make far greater wonders than these.
“Actually,” Burk said, snapping out of his childlike wonder as he took note of all the bizarre things in the room. “Do you think you could make something to protect my friend’s eyes form sunlight?” He gestured to Vicorra. The gnome lowered a few of the extra lenses on his goggles, magnifying his eyes.
“Yes I can, hold on just a moment.”
Once more he ran to the back of his shop, and when he returned just a moment later, he had with him another pair of goggles. This one only had two lenses and they were darkly colored.
“How’s this?” he said, handing them across the desk to Vicorra, who took them happily and slipped them over her head.
The dark elf looked around the room and then looked out the open door and then looked back at Burk and another small smile crossed her lips. “They’re amazing, sir! How much will they be?”
“Two gold plus another few silver for replacement lenses,” he replied, seemingly from memory. Vicorra reached into her bag, but Burk stopped her, reaching into his own and taking out three gold and laying it across the desk. The gnome was pleased and pulled out a small case containing eight more lenses. “There you go. Now, I’ll just need a few hours to close up. What ship or house will I find you all in?”
“We’re docked in the yard, just ask around for Captain Lucy, and tell her Doc sent you,” Doc explained.
“Oh, you’re a doctor? I wouldn’t have guessed,” the tinkerer said, truly shocked as he hadn’t caught any inkling of that upon first examination.
“No, I’m not a… never mind,” Doc said, grumbling the last word. “We’ll just be on our way.”
“Safe travels, adventurers!” The tinkerer said, seemingly out of habit as the four left his little hut. He was going back on the high seas at long last.
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