Nectar
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🕑 Added 2024-05-25 16:13:08 +0000 UTCChapter 18
The sun cast long shadows across the churning river that snaked around Holden. On the riverbank, in a specific location that neared the Deadwoods but also neared Holden and more importantly the river and the makeshift workshop of wood and canvas, stood Ethan and Artos the [Blacksmith]. Artos wiped sweat from his brow with a thick, calloused arm, a satisfied smile etched on his face.
“Looks like a beast, doesn’t it?” Artos said. His voice proved to be a rather gravelly counterpoint to the gurgling river. His weathered face held a hint of pride . “Took some doin’, but she’s ready when you are.”
Ethan traced the outline of a cog nestled against the shaft, its teeth gleaming against the sunlight. “It’s beautiful, Artos. The craftsmanship…”
“Beauty’s one thing,” Artos chuckled, clapping Ethan on the shoulder with a hand as rough as the bark of an oak before realizing who Ethan was. Artos coughed, “My apologies, my lord. I didn’t mean to step out of boundary.”
“Hmm.”
“But true worth comes from how it works,” continued Artos.
The true worth, Ethan knew, lay in the pile of intricately designed cogs at their feet. Each gear was meticulously shaped by Artos. With a nod, Ethan hefted a cog, its weight surprising.
“Alright, then,” Artos said excitedly, grabbing the cog from Ethan. “Let’s assemble it.”
For the next hour, the riverbank echoed with the rhythmic clinking of metal as Artos and his apprentices meticulously secured the cogs to the shaft. Each piece slotted into place with a satisfying click. Finally, only one large cog remained, its size dwarfing the others.
“This one’s special,” Artos declared, hoisting the cog with a surprising ease despite his age. Attached to its axle was a long, sturdy beam, tipped with a heavy metal weight. “This is the counterbalance, my lord. Keeps the whole thing spinning smoothly, like a well-oiled joint.”
Carefully, they secured the counterbalance, its weight causing the entire waterwheel to tilt slightly forward. Ethan held his breath, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.
“Trust the balance, my lord. The counterbalance keeps the wheel spinning smooth, prevents it from jerking and snapping like a twig in a storm. Now, step back and let’s see what this baby can do.”
Ethan moved back a few paces. Artos gestured towards a newly-carved channel that diverted a portion of the rushing river towards the waterwheel.
“Ready when you are,” Artos said, his voice barely a whisper above the roar of the water.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan plunged his hand into the channel. Channeling mana into his hand and willing the water to move, he directed the water flow. The impact was instantaneous. The water gushed toward the paddles with a vengeance, and the enormous machine lurched to life.
A collective gasp escaped the apprentices lips as the cogs whirred to a frenzy, the counterbalance swinging in a mesmerizing counterpoint. They all cheered as the shaft spun hypnotically.
Artos wiped sweat from his brow with a thick, calloused arm, a satisfied smile etched on his face.
The waterwheel’s central shaft was a behemoth of iron. From it radiated sturdy spokes, each as thick as a man’s thigh, supporting a circular frame adorned with evenly spaced paddles. These paddles, carved from seasoned oak, were angled just so to capture the full force of the river’s current.
“There you have it, my lord,” Artos said. “A waterwheel fit for a king.”
Quite a blasphemous thing to say, but not like Ethan gave a fuck. Ethan’s grin stretched from ear to ear. He had done it. They had done it. I can finally start mass-production and not worry about finances, too. Investors, hehe.
Regardless of what would happen, Ethan knew one thing for sure—life in Holden would never be the same.
...
Next, without wasting time, Ethan gathered his men and instructed them to create a thirty feet deep and twenty feet wide pit in the ground. Quite big, but he wanted to be done once and for all. As some of the men got to digging, Ethan wondered how easy it would be if he had an earth rune. Unfortunately, although he’d had luck with Lero who had a water rune, Ethan didn’t spot anyone else. Regardless, Ethan turned to the remaining men and instructed them to go into the Deadwoods and bring as much wood as possible. Focus narrowed, they located specific trees and cleaved through the trunks one at a time. Reduced to manageable lengths, the wood was quickly brought near the pit. For the next few hours, they settled into a routine. The men would go into the Deadwoods, locate and cut down desirable trees, then they’d cut them into shorter chunks and bring them back to the pit, where they’d be gathered just beside. Hours bled away and finally the pit was dug, and at that point, the wood was thrown in there.
As the pit was made and wood was gathered—Ethan allowed his men some rest before he instructed them to stack the wood in a specific way. A crisscross pattern with air gaps allowed for better airflow and prevented smoldering. Smaller pieces on top and larger ones at the bottom created a more uniform burn. Standing after they were done, Ethan smiled.
“Good job, everyone!” He shouted, then he grinned. “It’s time for a fire show!”
Ethan raised his hand and then willed a fireball into existence. He churned his mana and ramped up its temperature so much it stung—and then, he threw it into the pit and all his effort paid off in the form of a flaming explosion. Fire ignited and he tried to control the raging inferno that he’d created, but Ethan discovered that doing that would leave him drained, so instead, he turned to science.
For the next hour or so, Ethan settled into a routine: he would use his rune of fire to heat a section of the pit wall, creating a hot column of air. That hot air would rise up, pulling cooler air in from the bottom of the pit. This would create a continuous draft, feeding oxygen to the fire and promoting faster burning. Then, he would use water from the nearby river and create a small amount of steam at the base of the fire using his rune of water. While too much water could easily extinguish the flames, a controlled amount of steam actually helped. Steam carries heat efficiently and breaks down some of the cellulose in the wood, making it more receptive to burning.
Meanwhile, he tried to dip into [Meditation] while doing all that. It was hard, really really hard. His concentration would break at the smallest of things and so he wasn’t really successful. But he tried, at least. So, the only remaining thing was to raise the temperature. Ethan sucked out any water particles from the air and then using his rune of air and fire, he started riling up the oxygen content of the area around the fire. Furthermore, he ramped up the temperature as much as he possibly could with his current level. Sweaty and tired after a lot of effort, Ethan only had enough energy to slap his palms together and say, “And done!”
Hours passed like, but the ash was ready. “Come on, boys! Gather all of it into barrels!”
The men around him grumbled but Ethan couldn’t be bothered to care. The ash was an essential component. “We will be having a feast later!” He said, and the men cheered as they picked themselves up and went to work. Ethan made sure they separated usable ash from burnt wood debris. This would be a crucial step for obtaining pure ash for lye production.
It’s finally done, Ethan sighed. The whole process had taken around six hours.
After the ash was stored into barrels, they immediately got to work. With a few huge vats in the workshop and the shaft converting the circular motion of the waterwheel into something useable for stirring using a paddle shaft, Ethan taught the people how soap was made. They were all under contracts—[Oaths]—and were being paid a good amount.
Ethan had sent Leto on a mission, and the man had proved useful. Ethan anyway wanted to reward him for giving him a free rune. Regardless, the man had visited every butcher in town beforehand. He’d secured agreements to purchase all their fat at a fair price, though it hadn’t been as cheap as he’d hoped. Tallow, after all, was a crucial ingredient—for food preservation, soap making, candle making, and even animal feed.
Regardless, with everything ready, he walked the men and women gathered here through the process of soapmaking.
A hush fell over the workshop as Ethan cleared his throat and surveyed his workforce. The vats were courtesy of Artos’s apprentices, and they gleamed under the candle lamplight. Ethan clapped his hands, the sound sharp in the sudden quiet. “Alright everyone, listen up! Today’s the day we turn all this gathered material into something truly valuable—soap! Cheap, luxurious soap! It’ll be what kickstarts Holden’s rise to power, and it will be the thing that makes you rich!”
A murmur of interest rippled through the crowd. Soap was a luxury for most and if it could be made cheaper, it was indeed a product they could all appreciate.
Ethan pointed to the vats. “These vats will be the heart of our operation. We’ll be using a lye solution made from the ashes we collected earlier.” Ethan explained the whole process and they all nodded. Ethan explained the science behind saponification, the fancy term for the process that transformed fats and lye into soap. He spoke of fat molecules with their ‘tails’ that loved oil and their ‘heads’ that craved water. Lye broke these fat molecules apart, allowing them to rearrange and latch onto the lye, creating a whole new kind of molecule—soap.
The analogy of fat molecules with oil-loving ‘tails’ and water-loving ‘heads’ was a good simplification, but it wasn’t entirely accurate. Fats are actually triglycerides, which have three fatty acid chains attached to a glycerol molecule. The fatty acid chains have a hydrophobic (water-fearing) end and a hydrophilic (water-loving) end.
However, they didn’t need to know that, so he made a very simplified version.
It took some time to explain to them what a molecule was, though. Even after simplifying it a lot.
Then, he continued, “Now, lye can be nasty stuff, so be careful when handling it. It’ll burn your skin right off if you’re not careful. We’ll provide thick gloves, goggles, and aprons, and there’ll be a designated wash station Artos and his apprentices are building nearby. If even a drop touches you, rinse it off immediately with clean water. Understand?”
Heads bobbed in nervous agreement. The lighthearted mood from the fire’s success was replaced with a newfound caution.
“Regardless, Leto here will be in charge of mixing that up for safety reasons. You’re just here to learn today.”
Leto puffed out his chest, a proud smile on his face. Ethan chuckled inwardly. The man thrived on responsibility.
“Next,” Ethan continued, “we have the fats Leto procured from the butchers. Tallow, mostly. We’ll be slowly melting that down in smaller containers over low heat. It’s important not to burn it.” He gestured towards a table laden with curious, dark metal objects. “And this,” he said, picking up one of the metal husks, “is where the magic happens. These are molds. They’re designed to shape the soap into a specific form—in this case,” he held the mold aloft, revealing the intricate design of a lock, his family’s mark, “my family crest. Now, the process itself isn’t overly complicated, but it does require a certain rhythm. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll have two teams—one to handle the lye solution, another for the melted fat. Once both are ready, we’ll carefully mix them in a specific ratio. Leto will have the measurements for that.”
A woman with calloused hands and a determined expression stepped forward. “Will we be testing the mixture, milord? How do we know it’s right?”
Ethan smiled. A good question. “Absolutely. We’ll have a small mold for testing purposes. Once the mixture reaches a certain consistency, it’ll be poured into these molds here.” He tapped the metal husks. “The soap will then need to cure for a while before it’s ready for use.”
The woman nodded with a thoughtful expression on her face. Ethan could see the gears turning in her head, already picturing the process.
“This is where the assembly line comes in,” Ethan continued. “We’ll set up a series of stations. One station will be for prepping the lye solution, another for melting the fat, a third for mixing, and finally, a pouring and curing station.”
He pointed to different sections of the workshop. People began to move, excitement replacing the initial apprehension. Water was slowly leached through the ash to extract lye, which required careful control to avoid a caustic solution. Leto barked orders, showing them how to handle the lye safely.
The first step involved carefully pouring the hot lye solution into a separate vat containing a precise amount of melted tallow, the rendered fat Leto had secured. Here, Ethan introduced the concept of stirring. Using a long, sturdy pole, he demonstrated a slow, steady stirring motion, emphasizing the importance of even distribution. This step had been automated by the waterwheel, but it would require some manual input. This crucial step ensured a uniform reaction and prevented the soap from becoming lumpy or uneven.
Next came the waiting game. Ethan explained that the mixture, now a thick, cloudy concoction, needed time to saponify. The lye would work its magic, transforming the fat into soap. This process could take hours, depending on the temperature and the amount of lye used.
But given that this was a mere demonstration to teach, it didn’t take that much long. While the first batch simmered, Ethan didn’t waste time. He divided the workers into teams, assigning roles for each stage of the process. Some would be responsible for measuring and melting the tallow, others for carefully adding lye to the water solution. A dedicated team would handle the stirring, ensuring each vat received constant attention. Finally, there would be a team responsible for pouring the finished soap mixture into the metal molds.
As the first batch approached the end of its saponification time, Ethan instructed the team to ladle the thick, now-creamy mixture into the waiting metal husks. Each mold was filled carefully. The filled molds were then set aside to cool and harden, a process that could take another day or two.
By the time it was late into the night, the workshop was a full of activity. The rhythmic churn of the vats, the clinking of ladles, the murmur of instructions—it was the sound of an industry being born. With the first batch underway and the assembly line established—Ethan had to admit, a deep sense of accomplishment settled over him, and it didn’t take long for that feeling to wash over everyone else present.
Wiping sweat from his brow, Ethan surveyed the scene with a satisfied smile as they got done for the day.
“Everyone! It’s time for a feast!” He shouted.
A cheer erupted, washing away the fatigue.
Comments
Aryt3
Good Chap, but is "it didn't take that much long" not a misspelling? To me "it didn't take that long" sounds better, anyway not like my english is good
retrorocket0
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