NorskDaedalus
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Chapter 85: The Even One Out
🕑 Added 2021-08-31 16:04:03 +0000 UTCEdwin’s new accommodations were nothing special, but he at least had the room to himself- well, himself and Inion, so functionally all to himself- and that was something. A roughly double-sized bed in a medium-sized room, some shelves on which he could keep his stuff, and some hooks on which Edwin could hang his combat gear.
Naturally, he secured everything with extensive multi-layered Apparatus links. He didn’t trust Cope in the slightest- the man somehow managed to simultaneously check every box Edwin had for ‘academic advisor to avoid’ and ‘con man.’ But, so long as Edwin was careful, that shouldn’t matter too much- his goals in Panastalis were relatively simple, after all. He wanted to learn about what more ‘normal’ alchemists- Niall did not count- did and how they did it, get his medical license, and learn more about where he could get alchemy ingredients.
Conman or no, Cope had said he could get Edwin books, and that was what mattered. So what if he was unlikely to be paid for any of this? Heck, worst-case scenario, he could just ‘appropriate’ some books and ingredients as he left. It wouldn’t be worse than the dwarves, if nothing else, and he’d gotten out of that with a fraction of the experience and Skills Edwin had these days, though with a fair bit more karmic aid than he might have here.
All that to say, he wasn’t going anywhere without his valuables triple-secured inside Apparatus and hidden inside of something else. He should probably also reevaluate his habit of not keeping his more stealable belongings on his person- someone rifling through his carriage was way more likely than a master pickpocket, after all.
Oh! He could probably see about selling the Zosiman Grimoire, come to think of it. He was really only lugging the thing around out of habit at this point. Its entire contents- including decently-detailed illustrations- had long since been copied over to Almanac and relevant entries linked to the appropriate names and words. His discovery that he could direct multiple distinct tags to the same entry had helped a ton with that.
His dwarven dictionary was a little worse for wear after all this time, as was his original notebook… ah well, no great loss for either. He’d let his dwarven skills slip a fair bit- Polyglot made it largely redundant anyway- but he wasn’t likely to really try to get in any more practice either.
Where was he? Oh yeah, belongings and security. He’d gotten unpacked, not that there was much for him to unpack, and most (though not all) of his arsenal was stashed in the chest in his cart. The chest, of course, was impossible to open non-destructively- Sapper’s Apparatus jammed the lock and the hinges, and the more internal parts holding everything up were completely unreachable, and thus unbreakable. Even he wouldn’t have been able to open it if his increased levels in the Skill hadn’t also increased the range by which he could summon or dispel his apparatite- it was only about an inch, admittedly, but it was enough for this.
Satisfied, Edwin left his room and journeyed down the short hall it was at the end of, until he reached something of a common area. There, the assistant who had shown him to his quarters waited, and led Edwin to Cope’s office.
The interior was every inch what an alchemist’s office “should” be, which made Edwin start to suspect it was intentional. In one wall, a fireplace contained several of the white logs Edwin had seen in the other room, sitting inert underneath a massive iron cauldron that was nonetheless bubbling with some unknown (but mostly water) substance. In one corner, a low table strewn with papers and a massive, open book sat, while the majority of the room was monopolized with all manner of alchemical concoctions and ingredients. Glowing crystals, sprigs of magical plants, jars holding what looked like multicolored fireflies, a small nugget of black metal, and more besides. Unusually, there was an entire shelf dedicated to what looked like fine china- while there were only a couple plates and something that looked like a small, shallow bowl on a stem and with two looping handles, they were held on prominent display behind glass. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration on the plates in any case- just some symbol Edwin didn’t recognize.
In the center of the room, partially occluded by a freestanding shelving unit, an imposing wooden desk dominated most of the free space, seeming to magnify the presence of the man behind it. Cope appeared to be studying Edwin’s fever potion with a magnifying glass, though one without any kind of lens, unusually enough. He suspected it was magical, but there were too many conflicting magical items in the area, rendering his mana sense all but useless.
“My new friend! Come, come! Sit, sit. Here, take a chair.” Cope slid his tool and potion orb into his desk and motioned towards a stool that, while not uncomfortable-looking in the slightest, was still a far cry from the massive throne he had seated himself upon.
Edwin obliged with a shrug, “So. What did you want me to do, exactly?” he started off, “You said I wasn’t a full member of the Guild, what will that take to accomplish?”
“Getting right down to business, are we? No need to rush! Would you like something to drink? Wine? Mead? Nectar?”
“Nectar? What’s that?”
“Have you never tried it? Oh, it’s marvelous! A Panastalis specialty, you haven’t tried anything half as good as it! Wonderfully sweet upon the palate and so easy to drink an entire flask of if you aren’t careful! I have some wonderful hisperia-fruit vintage from some fifty years ago.”
“Uhhh… no thanks. I don’t drink.”
“Your loss. Ah, Wendell!”
The assistant that had helped Edwin poked his head through the door, “Yes?”
“Fetch me some of the Varlan!”
There was no response, though Edwin had already turned back to face his new ‘employer,’ so figured the man had just nodded or provided some other non-auditory reply.
“So! You’re probably wondering what the story is with myself and Othniel, are you not?”
“Well… not especially, no. I was kind of-” Edwin was cut off by the boisterous alchemist carrying on heedless of Edwin’s protests.
“Well, you see. The Phoens have had command of white gold for centuries now, you know? Eh, I’m sure you haven’t seen much of it before now, but it’s a major commodity! I was fortunate enough to get my hands on a few samples,” he gestured at the china shelf behind him, “for my experiments.”
Wait, porcelain? Um, what do I remember about that?
“Now, Othniel and I met years ago, back as relatively new initiates into the Guild. I had made some fascinating discoveries in the matter of native plants, including identifying and classifying entirely new flora, and my efforts had drawn him to the field as well. Of course, even from the start I knew there was something off about the man. Not half the gentleman he ought to have been, and, though of course I didn’t find out until far later, the fool thinks porcelain is made of clay. Clay, can you believe it? It’s clearly glasswork, though what kind of fool thinks it’s earthenware?”
I thought it was pottery of some sort? Super high-temperature kilns or something?
“The fools down south make their walls from it, can you believe it? They hoard it all to themselves. Even a novice can create so fine a piece you can all but see through it, and with such marvelous applications! Erm, my apologies.
“These days, Othniel and I work to track down and replicated its elusive properties, that we might truly gild the guild and bring riches to this backwoods town.”
Edwin could only shrug in response as his mind wandered slightly. He kept a thread of attention on the conversation, just enough to keep track of what was going on, but allowed most of his thoughts to drift.
“Oh! Thank you, Wendell. Yes, just right here.”
A glass bottle was added to the table, and Cope withdrew a silver goblet from his desk, “You’re certain you don’t want any? It is truly transcendent.”
Edwin shook his head again, and he watched as the man poured himself some wine, taking a deep sip before continuing, “Where was I? Ah yes. Could you imagine, drinking from porcelain? A taste of royalty, let me tell you. The finest drink I ever had was from that there kylix, on the shelf. I don’t pull it out often, but those Gaishans live like that night and day! Sweetened wine, fresh food, and I’ve heard that it is impossible to be poisoned drinking from porcelain as well! Truly, a miraculous substance. Now, Othniel and I first met some years ago as part of our endeavor to catalogue alchemical components…”
Edwin silently sighed and settled in for what seemed to be a very long talk.
----
“And then, the man decided to blackmail the captain to divert further findings away from me! Me, can you believe it? After that…”
Edwin tuned back in, then back out. The bottle of wine was about half-gone, and the man was showing no signs of slowing down. He just kept getting more and more heated, gesticulating wildly and stroking his moustache in frustration.
-----
“He sought to discredit me even further by spreading around a nonsense story about misidentifying the casthalantis plant! As though anyone would truly be so idiotic as to think the plant would produce fruit at the roots, or even worse- mistake the roots for the branches? Honestly, who does that man think he’s fooling anyway? Apparently everyone, because nobody will ever believe me nowadays when I tell them I never made such a blunder! Oh! But because of that…”
Edwin was honestly amazed that Cope was still going. Given Edwin’s hunger cycle, it had to have been near dinnertime by now. Ah well. Edwin wasn’t in any real rush, though he was annoyed that his day had been essentially wasted by a guy with far too large an ego. It wasn’t too great of a loss, as Edwin had spent the time trying to Almanac all of the miscellaneous knick-knacks that filled the room. He didn’t know what most of them were, but he’d at least know if he encountered them again. He even got a level for his efforts! He didn’t know how many characters he was at with level 131, but it was way more than he was likely to run into- during normal use anyway- any time soon.
“And that brings us to you!”
Oh, this sounded important. He should pay attention now.
“Because you approached me, undeterred by my reputation, you clearly desire to be on the right side of history! With your aid, the Cope faction can once again return to prominence and claim our rightful place as primary researchers upon the White Gold problem! What do you say?”
“…I mean,” Edwin’s voice momentarily caught in his throat from going without speaking for so long, “I thought I basically already agreed? That’s-”
“Marvelous! So glad you agreed.”
“I mean, I kind of already agreed yesterday? That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I was mainly just wondering what it was that you wanted me to actually work on. You’ve talked a lot about your time plant-hunting or whatever, but how does that translate to your attempts to make porcelain or what have you?”
“Ah! Yes.” Cope got a hard light in his eye as he recounted, “After so many years attempting to show up one another in classification of alchemical flora and fauna- I myself wrote half the book on identifying such- we decided that the only way we could truly settle which of us was the superior alchemist was by discovering the impossible; how to make porcelain. Such a task is monumental, and never before accomplished, but as I am the greatest living alchemist, I am certain I shall prevail! Once I do, my name shall be forever remembered as the one who brought fantastic wealth to Panastalis!”
Edwin was… skeptical, to say the least, “What makes you so certain that you’ll be the victor, though? Isn’t this a competition?”
“Bah! As though that lumbering, haphazard fool could ever match my genius! Besides, he is utterly mistaken for the method by which to create it. Othniel thinks that it is mere earthenware, clay which has undergone some alchemical treatment for its color and with Skills speaking to its marvelous properties, but I know better,” he twirled his moustache, “Those backwards Phoens could never match the capability our glorious Empire has with its vast experience with Skills, and could never produce the sort of inter-set consistency we see with their creations. No, it is clearly alchemical glass or crystal, then shaped by Sculptors. I simply need to refine my formula, and when we will have victory!”
“Mhm,” Edwin did his best to not sound too skeptical.
“I’m still not seeing my role in all of this,” he admitted, “What is it that you see me doing on a daily basis? Also, if I’m the one who cracks the formula, how does that then show that you’re the better alchemist?”
“Well, I was the one to hire you, was I not? After all, it is not like he is doing the work himself either. The man has dozens of assistants working under him, each attempting all manner of spurious combinations in a vain attempt to prove victorious.”
So you’d get all the credit, got it. Well, I suppose that’s not too different from normal. Though usually the lead researcher does something more than, well, point people at the problem. And it’s rare an individual in a company gets individual credit for the discovery anyway.
“And... what exactly am I going to be doing every day?” At this point, Edwin wasn’t hopeful that he’d actually get any kind of meaningful response.
“That’s quite simple, my friend,” Cope gave Edwin a sickening smile, “Do you have much experience with glass?”
----
He wasn’t the only person working on the project, naturally. Cope himself did spend a few hours each day in the lab, trying out some ‘genius’ idea then growing frustrated when it didn’t work, storming out after yelling at one of the other assistants about something.
Listening to the man’s tirades was rather informative, honestly. He learned a lot about his fellow alchemists just by picking over relevant information with Memory.
Fissath was the one avior in the group, a Glasswind Artisan who made no secret of her dislike of Cope. She was apparently stuck in her position thanks to a deal made between her family business- glassblowers, naturally- and Cope. She was the one actually responsible for teaching Edwin how to work with glass, and it was quite the spectacle whenever she would work with her Skills. She could, with just a few flaps of her wings, suspend and shape molten glass in midair as she desired. Her Fire Resistance skill was also apparently a high enough level she could just pick up the glowing glass straight from the kiln and shape it like putty. The first time he’d seen her do so, Edwin’s heart nearly lept out of his chest, but he’d since grown accustomed to it.
Her primary failing, according to Cope, was simply not being an alchemist, and as such being unable to ‘properly grasp’ the man’s genius like the rest of her peers. In response, she thought it was absurd that they were trying to use her Skills, tuned as they were to fire, wind, and changing the color and clarity of glass she worked with, to create something that was merely translucent.
While one of the research group got along great with Edwin, he’d spent a few conversations in passing commiserating with the miserable avior about how much of a pain Cope was. She’d also given Edwin a few tips as to how he could level up Adaptive Defense (well, moreso tips on how to level defensive Skills in general), and while “start small, hold your wing above a candle to start and slowly bring bigger flames from there” wasn’t exactly revolutionary, he appreciated the sentiment. Unfortunately, she seemed to resent him for his lack of long-term commitments to the project, meaning he could leave whenever he pleased, while she was still stuck with Cope for another year.
Thoril was the blue-skinned Fastidious Alchemist Edwin had first met when he’d sought entry into the alchemist’s guild, and, like most of the team, all but idolized Cope. He had little patience for Edwin and his questions about how things worked, but as the newest member of the group other than Edwin himself, was usually the person the others pawned Edwin off onto when he did have a question. His complexion was apparently the result of a failed potion- he’d tried making an appearance-enhancing potion to help him with some skin condition, but had added some five times the silver dust required. He claimed it was an accident, which Edwin wasn’t sure whether that was better or worse than Cope’s claim that he’d done it intentionally. In any case, he’d been stuck with skin the color of a bruised plum for three months now, with no sign of it fading any time soon.
Edwin tried to sympathize, he really did. But his chuckles when first hearing the story did nothing to endear him to Thoril, and after that the man refused to give him the time of day if he could help it.
Wendell was Cope’s personal assistant as well as a researcher, and while not officially higher-ranked than the rest of them, he did like to throw his influence around here and there. After the first few times, he ignored the blustering idiot. No, he wasn’t going to explain where he had come from, who he had learned alchemy from, or what Paths had given him his class. He always threatened Edwin with unspecified ‘consequences,’ but Edwin didn’t really care. The man didn’t like him, that was all there was to it, and Edwin was very used to ignoring people that didn’t like him. Now, it would have been nice if somebody on the research team liked him, but that was neither here nor there.
Cope seemed to have less of a problem with Wendell than the rest of them, but even he wasn’t immune to being criticized. He had at one point, apparently, messed up a strength potion so badly it turned out as a sleeping elixir. He didn’t fully track the theory about the yelling past that point, but it was apparently almost impressive in just how much of a complete failure it was.
Keir, the Classical Alchemist, was primarily a theorist. He had apparently formulated something about porcelain that made him conclude it was made with bone, and insisted on grinding up and trying every type of bone that he could his hands on in his mixes. While mostly unsuccessful, he was constantly trying to get Cope to approve his requests to get exceptionally rare animals, so that he could try grinding up and including the skulls of whales, of lions, of chimera, and even of dragons in his glass. Cope, for his part, barely seemed to even notice the man save for when he was yelling at him- a few years older than Edwin by his estimation- about the time he’d loaded a cauldron fire so much that the flames had burned a hole in the roof.
It did explain why he refused to go within ten feet of the glassmaking kiln, but Edwin was mainly curious about how the heck he had managed that without outright burning down the entire building. He was also constantly quarreling with the last member of their little research group, Rihta.
Somehow, against all odds, Rihta managed to idolize Cope even more than the rest of her peers. Case in point, her decision to become a Cataloguing Alchemist was apparently directly inspired by their boss’ past as a naturalist and identifier of alchemical ingredients. Her heated arguments with Keir could spiral quite out of control, particularly since she shared his opinion that bone was a component of porcelain, though they apparently couldn’t agree on why.
Edwin at first tried to follow their conversation, and while he didn’t totally understand, he could at least get the basic idea. Keir claimed the role a given bone had in its home skeleton was clearly vital to what it would do in a potion, which explained why he needed to use the skull specifically in his glass. Rhita apparently was under the “foolish notion” that it was the material which the bone was made of that mattered, and he could use anything from a finger to a vertebrae in his experiments with no difference. After that, it quickly evolved into using terminology Edwin couldn’t follow in the slightest. Something about primaries and tuners, he thought.
All in all, it made for a very… interesting workplace. His first day on the job had left him socially exhausted, and only his high Sleeping level had gotten him prepared for the next. Really, the only thing that made it bearable was the fact he didn’t really have any stake in staying. He could leave whenever he pleased, according to the document Cope had provided, and negotiate what his payment would be at that point. The document had been frustratingly vague as to what was an option, as it only said that he would receive “appropriate compensation” for his work, but if he had issues with it, he could request arbitration from the Guild proper as to whether or not he deserved more payment.
Edwin didn’t really expect to get that much from Cope, all told. But, the chance to work in the alchemy lab was really sweet- particularly given he was permitted to use it for personal projects… though he was responsible for damage and had to supply the materials himself.
Okay, all told, Edwin knew he was being screwed over. If he had been back on Earth, he would have never stood for this kind of job. Here, though, where he didn’t really have to worry about money if he didn’t want to- he still had five and a half grai, which would be enough to get him more or less situated for the rest of his life if he so chose. But that also wasn’t what he wanted out of his life here. He wanted to travel and see the world, experience new things and learn cool alchemy. He wanted to learn magic and maybe get back… no, he was happy here.
He was very much accomplishing his goal of learning new things, if nothing else. Watching his coworkers perform alchemy was very interesting, and learning how to sculpt glass was similarly fascinating. Besides, he didn’t have to deal with a bad boss directly, as Cope seemed content to leave Edwin alone in his regular tirades.
It was, Edwin suspected, partially because the man didn’t have any ammo to use against him, and in part because Cope knew that unlike the others, he didn’t really have anything tying him to the group. The man wasn’t stupid, so far as Edwin could tell, and he knew that Edwin would be more likely to leave than stick around for emotional abuse. Edwin wasn’t entirely sure why he merited such special treatment, though the skeptical part of Edwin’s brain said it was because Cope wanted to try and get his hands on more of Edwin’s potions and formulae.
Ah well. He wasn’t planning on giving the man any more than he had to. He was just going to enjoy the well-stocked lab that he had access to. It was the best he’d had access to since arriving in Joriah, including his dwarven workshop.
It needed way more ventilation than it had, but Fresh Air protected Edwin to the point where he didn’t really care all that much, and most of the noxious fumes that wafted through the space didn’t seem to have any negative effects beyond smelling foul. Or at least, that was what Cope had said in way of explanation as to why there was so much incense burning at all hours. Honestly, opening a window seemed like it might have been cheaper, but Cope was insistent that doing so would welcome espionage and sabotage from Othniel’s group, which Edwin was skeptical about.
------
After about a week in the lab, Edwin was milling around at his table, trying to identify some of the material he had to work with. Behind him, he could hear Rihta and Keir quarreling again, and shared an exasperated glance with Fissath while she worked to get the kiln going for the day. She used a fire starting Skill of some sort on a white twig that matched the fuel they so commonly used, causing it to burst into painfully bright white flames, and tossed it into the loaded furnace, encouraging its spread with other Skills.
She had just gotten the fire fully ignited when thick, dark blue smoke suddenly started billowing out of the kiln. It rushed over the avior, who swayed unsteadily. Within moments, it had filled the room, totally obscuring Edwin’s view of what was going on. He could, however, hear the sound of shattering glass followed by a series of thumps.
“You guys okay?” Edwin called out. When there was no response, he grew alarmed and set down the samples he was preparing to test. He rushed over to the kiln, biting back a curse as the lack of visibility made him hit his foot against a table leg, and checked on his peers.
Although he was in the midst of the smoke, Edwin didn’t really feel anything beyond a faintly sweet smell; Fresh Air was apparently protecting him from whatever had happened to the others. Fissath was the first one Edwin found, slumped over the ‘molten glass’ workbench, her tools slipping from her grasp.
He had no experience with avior biology, but she was, at least, still breathing. He scooped up her body, and while she flopped around like she was boneless, Packing made it easy for him to carry the girl outside, where he propped her up against a nearby branch and dove back inside the lab.
The blue smoke kept getting thicker and thicker, to the point where he couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his face. It was so bad that he outright closed his eyes, recreating the room in his mind with Visualization.
Okay, so the kiln was on the wall to his left. That was where Fissath’s station was, and he could get to his own by turning towards the kiln then going right. If he went straight, he should run into Cope’s table, though the man wasn’t here yet this morning. If he went around that, he would get to Wendell’s station. He would have to be careful, though, as it was especially crowded over there. Actually, he’d stolen all the chairs the night before, so he’d have to either be very careful, or just fly over.
…He’d leave Wendell for last. Thoril should be the closest, as his countertop was directly to the right of the door, and was mercifully clear of most clutter on the floor. He took a step forward, using Identify as fast as he could trigger the Skill in an effort to spot where the man was. It didn’t take long to find the unconscious body, but no thanks to Identify. Instead, Edwin nearly tripped over the prone figure, and it was only thanks to lightning-fast reflexes with Flight that he didn’t.
He quickly grabbed and carried the blue-skinned man outside, setting him down right next to the door before diving back inside.
If he moved through Thoril’s space, he could reach Rhita’s workstation by turning left. Her station was neat enough, though he would need to be mindful of the potted bonebrush that sat next to her… ow. That was probably the pot banging his knee, wasn’t it? Okay, Rhita should be around here somewhere, then.
…Hmm. She wasn’t on the floor, or on her bench… shoot, he’d come back to her after getting Keir. His was the next in line, and he would be able to tell when he got there when he kicked a bone on the floor. And…
Something clattered across the ground as Edwin lightly kicked it.
There it was. He opened his eyes in the hopes he could see something, but he still wasn’t able to discern anything past the thick, monochrome blue, so he closed his eyes again and started feeling around for a body.
Ah, that was where Rhita was. The two of them had slumped onto the ground together, and- ouch!- there was broken glass of some variety next to them. Edwin carefully threaded his arms under one, then the other, picking them up like they were bags full of feathers.
By the time he made it outside, Fissath seemed to be stirring slightly. After a brief moment spent making sure she was alright- he couldn’t see anything wrong, apart from her still being asleep, he dove back inside.
Once he was firmly obscured by the smoke, Edwin hesitantly rose into the air. He’d hidden his Flight skill on account of not wanting to answer the questions it would inevitably lead to- or maybe he could pass it off as a potion of his own making, come to think of it- but he was functionally invisible inside the smoky building.
He rose to the ceiling, some fifteen or twenty feet up, and hesitantly opened his eyes, expecting it to be even thicker up top, but was pleasantly surprised to find that the smoke stayed closer to the ground, and let him actually see when he was up here. That made navigation trivial, thankfully, even though there weren’t rafters he needed to avoid, and Edwin floated across the room until he was above Wendell’s table, before descending back into the smoke.
Wendell was relatively easy to find. He was sitting in his main chair, folded over his desk, having presumably been writing something when the smoke hit. A bit of maneuvering still got him out just fine, but Edwin got lost in the smoke for a little while when carrying him out.
By the time he had finished retrieving the man, Fissath was awake and gently prodding at the others to try and get them to wake up.
“What was that?” he asked the glassblower as he set Wendell down against the wall.
“Midnight smoke,” the avior sighed, “Como- one of Othniel’s men- is a fan of the substance. We’ll get a dose of it every month or two, usually knocks us out for the day until someone pulls us out, makes us break a few things and waste a couple days while we wait for it to clear out. It’s the first time it was in the kiln, though. Xares above, I cannot wait until I can finally be free of all of this utter nonsense. All I want, I swear, is some peaceful time to myself to hone my craft and earn my Feather. But nooo, the blue-feathered idiot has to keep provoking his former friend so they do this sort of thing on the regular. I swear to the hurricane, if Shalob makes me start giving the kiln daily checks for more fire-triggered traps, I will…”
Edwin didn’t find out what, exactly, Fissath was planning on doing, as Cope showed up right then. He took one look at the workshop, slowly seeping blue smoke into the surrounding branches, and started yelling. Polyglot was starting to get a workout, but Edwin quietly disabled the Skill while he went about checking if the other lab workers were alright.
“Breathing steady… pulse seems alright. Anatomy isn’t throwing a fit…” he murmured to himself, looking over the sleeping individuals. By the time he finished, Cope had calmed down marginally and was animatedly arguing about something with Fissath.
Edwin looked enviously at his gently sleeping coworkers, and at the mass of smoke still in the lab. He sighed, idly wondering if he was better off disabling Fresh Air and joining the others in dreamland.
Comments
WhiteRabbit
Eh, that kind of taking credit is not as common now, but I wouldn't say it is super rare. In older societies it was pretty standard.
BananaInMyPants
Funny typo; guy with far too large an ego.It wasn’t too - The missing space between sentences made it read as a hyperlink and I got very confused for a second.
Daedalus
Edwin figures (rightly or wrongly) that he can just meander away once he’s done and he’s gotten everything he came for. He doesn’t think he’s being overconfident, but then, when does anyone?
thkiw
edwin is really getting cheated here. he can make proclain himself and probably win lots of alchemy study materials. he can also sell his potion recipies for the guild. I really don't think he'll get anything more from this though. anything successful he make this cord guy would try to rip him off, or complain to the guild that he stole from him. even after apprenticeship. not true, and luckily there are probably skills to determine that. but still.
