Finishing lunch with a smirk, you went back to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee. It had been raining most of the week, so not many of the girls were moving around much, giving you freedom to start crafting. As you lit the hearth-flame of the furnace, you sighed and steepled your fingers. You learned a lot from the dissection of the cursed sword, and now the time to apply it was at hand.
The first, and most important thing you'd learned was that it was entirely possible to separate magical tasks into separate components of the wand's physical form, which would presumably work like a block and tackle. Instead of using a hundred feet of rope to pull straight up, subdividing by parts meant that you had two fifty-foot lengths undergoing half the respective load. Theoretically, this would extend the durability and the spell strength of the wand too, but right now you just wanted to get two effects in and working with each other.
Going to your parts bin, you started digging around until you grabbed a full detonite injector. A piece of advanced witch-work, it would serve well as the basis to this wand- once you grabbed a septum and popped the nose open to remove the detonite. Putting the globes of volatile green goo to the side in an old loaf pan, you started whistling as you collapsed the injector's tensioned arms down to their minimal position and started locking them shut. For all that calling them 'Witches' made them sound like magical beasts, many of them managed to work mechanical wonders like detonite injectors, so finely-wrought you were certain that not even a Swiss watchmaker could reliably duplicate the quality.
Once you were done working down the detonite injector, you tossed it in the oven to cook for a little bit while you racked out your potion stand. Three globs of detonite, three potion bottles, of course you were going to do some experimental potionry on the side! Pouring the detonite into the arcane water, you spiked the first one with some baking soda, the second with ammonia, and the last one with the tail end of your Crafting Whiskey. Chucking the empty fifth in your recycling bin, you set the bottles back in the stand, and threw a clump of parsley and lime (not the fruit, the chemical) in the top of the device before pouring a measure of salt into each fire. As bright orange flames shot out, you smirked and let that cook. Back to wand now!
Diving into your collection of holy stuff, you grabbed some of the moonstone for this project, before clamping it down and breaking out your carving chisel and a crayon. For this, you were feeling like a triskelion emblazoned on the breast of a dove, and the drawing came out well enough for your satisfaction. Carving it… well, there were some slips. It happened. Still, with the focus done, you pulled out the detonite injector that had been cooking, and dug into your stash of glass bottles. A set of three wine bottles would be glass donors for this as you treated them well before cutting off their necks and bottoms. Working carefully, you got the hot metal of the injector opened, before sliding in each glass segment to create a mostly-uninterupted core where there'd normally be the globs of detonite. Once that was done, you then needed to go into your Concoctions cabinet, and get a jar of the humors- in this case, black bile. About a liter of it was what you needed, so a little olive oil was used as a thinner, along with two nearly-expired eggs Homer had banished from the kitchen. Reeking faintly of depression and despair, you sighed and put it in the oven to render off some of the more frustrating effects. With that cared for, you could now make a stone-setting for the moonstone cap to the wand. This bit, the fun bit, you could dignify with some song.
"
I dig my hole you build a wall
I dig my hole you build a wall
One day that wall is gonna fall"
Once you'd put together a cap-plate and a bezel, a touch of epoxy joined the two without too much ceremony, and from there the moonstone went in. After you taped it down to your anvil, out came the wooden peg and mallet as you got to work on hammering the bezel shut. Repeating the first verse again, you un-taped it, and tossed it in the oven for some warm magical double-checking.
"
Gon' build that city on a hill
Gon' build that city on a hill
Some day those tears are gonna spill"
The next step was sealing the joints between the glass segments in the core of the wand body. Going back over to your epoxy, you went over and dumped some powdered glass into it and started mixing it in so that post-cook it would theoretically form a homogeneous container. Hopefully. Probably. To be honest, you were still pretty damn fuzzy as to the arcane synergies of epoxy. While that all set up, you unclipped the bombs from there stand since they had finished percolating, and put them in the oven to finalize in potency. There was a niggling feeling in the back of your head that this was a really suboptimal way to finish charging them, but you had three oven bays and this project had yet to require more than two at a time.
"So build that wall and build it strong cause
We'll be there before too long"
It took about a minute for the epoxy to cure, at which point you pulled the reduced black bile out and dumped it in. Hissing as it hit the bottom of the container, you felt the potential of the various components war with themselves, until the ordering of the device sorted itself out from
explosive-with-delivery-system fighting
melancholy-brew-that-saps-will into
delivery-of-despair that finally won out. Capping the fluid chamber with a bottle-bottom, you kept smearing on epoxy and let the set win out.
"Gon' build that wall up to the sky
Gon' build that wall up to the sky
Some day your bird is gonna fly"
Now came the capstone and focus. Heating up a band of coper wire you'd pulled from the walls, you gauged it ever so carefully before sliding it on top of the affair to serve as a constrictive fastening as it cooled. It wasn't long before you heard the tink and click of contracting metal, and you sighed. Time to finish the song.
"Gon' build that wall until it's done
Gon' build that wall until it's done
But now you've got nowhere to run
So build that wall and build it strong cause
We'll be there before too long"
By the time you were done, the fastening had cooled to the point it was lock-solid, and you could safely put the entire contraption into the oven. Taking a long drink of water, you clapped your hands together once before going to stoke the fire. This would be exhausting, you could tell already.
Light-of-the-night-world was a strong concept, and marrying it to
delivery-of-despair was a bold move that would need negotiating out. Conceptual ingredients weren't your strong suit, but you'd need to work on it anyway to keep delivering quality work.
"
I've come here from nowhere
Across the unforgiving sea.
Drifting further and further
It's all becoming clear to me.
But violent winds are upon us, and I can't sleep
Internal temperatures rising
And all the voices won't recede."
Light and despair were hard concepts to compel to work together, you mused.
Despair-to-the-dark would require inverting light;
Hope-for-those-without required inverting the despair. Finally, you bit the bullet and prepared for an ugly compromise, by shifting light from the purest moonglow to the piercing ray, while moving despair from a gentle melancholy to a crippling depression. It was easier to get two strong assets to combine together like artificial time and clockwork, so the force of the ray would provide the depressive results. With one last tweak, you barely managed to work in the concept of an aura, a small harkening back to the subtler tones, and then the first stage was done.
"I've finally found what I've been looking for.
A place where I can be without remorse;
Because I am a stranger who has found
An even stranger war
I've finally found what I've been looking for.
Here I come."
The second stage was harder. The detonite injector was willing to accept the ray, but the more gentle dispersion was a much harder sell to make. Still, you worked it in carefully and credibly, fusing the dispersal completely as the main effect solidified.
Ray-of-oppression would be a good main effect, you thought, the paralyzing hopelessness and mournful results scarring the mind and piercing the soul. The secondary, though, was softer;
aura-of-hope. It was no banner to rally around, but even in the worst of times, there would be something keeping the girls together.
"La chaleur me dérange
Mais c'est le grincement du bateau qui ma réverèe"
Going over to the oven, you hauled it open and reached in to withdraw the wand. Sleek and dark in the center, full of churning liquid and power; with three golden rods holding the cap of light on. The moonstone had vanished, sadly, consumed and eaten entire into the wand, but as you picked it up there was still a triskelion on the cap of the weapon. Hand wrapped around the braided machinery of the grip, you felt a lightening of your heart. It wasn't amazing, in your mind, but you knew with this that there was still a touch of heaven's light that ran through it.
-/-/-/
The next day in the commissary, you smiled and looked at the assembled girls. The room was packed, with your four taking up one table, with Rose, Lappin, that cat, and a girl in a red leather motorcycle jacket. Your mind, still buzzing with arcane residue, recognized it as a magical costume. Limited utility, yes, but whoever had made it was damn good- it would last for fucking years.
"Good news, people!" you yelled. "I got shit to sell!"
Eight sets of eyes turned to you, and one nose in lieu of eyes from Homer behind the counter.
"Behold, new wand!" you yelled, grinning as you held it out. "Anyone got an opening bid?"
Trompdoy and Eowyn both shrugged. "We can do you… uh… not that much." Eowyn said, sighing. "Around six pallets of Alchemist supplies? There's been not a lot of activity lately, and we found more signs of that coven of witches, so this last week's been mostly detective work."
Calypso glared at you. "I'm already in debt, so no. Fuck off."
Mistletoe wiped the drool out of her mouth. "Umm… I have some scrap I picked up out of a summoning circle, and a few artifact-things? Nothing great, but it exists?"
You nodded. Not a great payoff, but as the cat sped out of the room you looked at the strangers. "And you guys?"
"Twenty ounces of 24-karat gold." The girl in red said. "Also, I'm Tanner. Nice to meet'cha."
Rose winced. "Bidding's too rich for my taste. Call me in when something cheaper comes up."
"Thirteen Familiar Chimera corpses, two pints of dragon's blood, six non-Euclidian skulls, twenty pounds of enchanted cinnabar," Lappin said with a waver. "and my services for two weeks. For anything."
"Anything?" you asked, eyes lighting up.
"Anything." She said, shivering a little. "Absolutely anything."
"Great!" you said, smiling. "You can do the morning collections and water distribution. If I sell to you, we can go over your routines later, and you'll start on Sunday."
The three strangers let their mouths fall open. Looking at them, Calypso sighed in the most deadpan voice possible.
"You get used to it."
Behind you, a magical girl barged through your lobby, turned at the junction, and came screaming up behind you in an ill-fitting school uniform covered with stains and a size too small. "Sorry I'm late!" she yelled, before tripping on the shitty hall carpet and faceplanting into the ground at your feet. "I'm Elise."
Picking her almost skeletal form upright and taking her inside, you plopped her at the table and clicked your fingers twice, than three times- food, now, please.
"I heard from my cat you were selling a wand. I have a '67 Camero I can offer in trade, and a shipping container full to the brim of Warsaw Pact military equipment."
The girls stared at her, and Elise stared back. "What? You guys act surprised."
"Where the fuck did you get that! When did you get that?" Tanner asked, almost yelling.
"Ukraine, in '89, and I'm not obligated to tell you anything else." Elise said, smirking. "God, I miss working with Henrietta."
You nodded. "I still need to do some cleaning and polish, so I'll be back in a bit. Sales decisions will be finalized by the weekend."
-/-/-/-/
It had taken a surprisingly small amount of work to make a secured room for Joselyn to stay in, where she was nominally connected to a ring you yourself bolted into a floor stud, with a foot manacle zip-tied to an eight gauge chain. Now, you were coming up with the bolt cutters, and more importantly an employment offer. Entering the room, you found Joselyn sitting on the ground, idly braiding her hair.
"Heya, sparky." She said, sighing. "Make up your mind yet?"
"I've been thinking about it." You said honestly. "As it stands, I don't want to kill you, but I can't let you go."
"Yeah yeah, recruitment at gunpoint works so much better when you have a gun." Joselyn said, sighing. "Really, I thought you would be better at this than the other guys."
"I considered being polite about it."
Joselyn looks at you like you were an idiot drenched in stupid sauce. "I was an Alchemist. Card-carrying, baby-eating, nightmare-inducing Alchemist. You're still in here talking to me? How hard you ring your bell, Sevenfingers?"
You glared at her. "That is not my name."
"Might as well be, mister half-handshake! What, you think a moment of boredom is enough to get me to slip? I helped you because it was funny, and I figured, oh, what the hell, might as well take you down with me!"
The glare intensified. "And you don't want to make up for that? You don't want to try and get better?"
Laughing, Joselyn rolled back. "I have no soul left for you to save, dumbass. Look."
Taking off her pants, or at least as far as she could with the manacle, Joselyn showed you the front of her leg. A long scar slithered up her thigh, covered with ugly stitching and black tissue.
"Exsanguination cut." She explained easily, a dark smile on her face. "They need to suck as much of your blood out as they can before they start replacing bits. Catch your soul up in a ruby, and rack it away for later. If they replace enough bits, well, you've seen Calypso."
"What about Calypso." You asked darkly.
"Oh, you know your literature. Mary Shelly was a real treat, when she gave out the idea for a man made of spare parts and powered by lighting. Technically, a dead end since there's not enough standardization in humans to make it work without masterful interreference, but, well, the old Master of this area was an idiot."
Your eye twitched again. "And what, they'll come rescue you now?"
"Pfft, no." Joselyn said, grinning. "I've got another few days before I get the pangs, a week or two before I kick it after that from represent withdrawl. This isn't a new lease on life, just a chance to die later."
At that, you walked out of the room, and back downstairs. The level of evil, malicious foresight, and institutional knowledge horrified you to your core. Back in your room, you dug around for a package of cigarettes, the brown wrapping paper comfortable in your hands as you searched for a lighter. Growling, you gave up, moving to your workshop to light off a taper in the oven. That done and coffin nail lit, you went out to the lobby pacing. This could be an elaborate ruse, but you weren't so sure. Something was up. Another puff, and you went outside to look at the outside of the building.
"Represent withdrawal" sounded fishy no way you sliced it. Either there was something in her system being repressed, or there was a symptom being controlled. More importantly, there very well could be something else in there that she wasn't telling you because she didn't want you to know, or because she didn't know. Walking around the lot, you stopped. There was a woman outside, looking at you.
"Hello." You said casually, still puffing your smoke.
"Hello, Armorer of Light." The woman said, smiling. "Care to parley?"
You blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You are the Armorer of Light, yes?" the woman asked. Taking a closer look, her dark dress and elbow-length opera gloves started to tickle the back of your brain, before realizing that this bombshell of a woman was trying to talk to you about negotiations.
"I would assume." You said carefully. "I run the hostel, and I do create magical weapons."
"Excellent." The woman said, smiling. "My name is Anna Eriksdotir, and I was chosen as the negotiator for our coven. We wish to evacuate the area in peace, and are willing to barter with you for that right."
"The assumption that I control the girls is a laughable one." You countermanded. "They hunt where they are wont, sleep when they wish, and pay me in the spoils of war."
"A simple shut-down of a week in your services would make it plain that there is a large amount of power you bear." Anna replied. "We depart in five weeks, and if you wish to deliver news as to you and yours' opinions on the matter, you need only step to neutral ground and say my name thrice. I will hear, and arrive as quick as I may."
"Very well then." You said nodding. "Until then."
"Until then, Armorer of Light."
/-/-/-/-/-
Votes
Build a Tool
[] Trinket
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 3.
[] Wand
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 2.
[] Bomb
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 1.
[] Costume
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 1.
[] No, you want to work on your building instead
[] No, you want to improve your workshop instead.
[]
No, you want to research an item instead. (no items to research)
Wand (T2 sale)
[] Tanner the Red (22 Mundane)
[] Lappin the Rabbit (23 Witchy, 2 weeks staff work) (Occupies 1 furnished room at no rent)
[] Trompdoy & Eowyn (4 Gubbins, 12 Spooky, 2 Demonic)
[] Mistletoe (6 Witchy, 10x Minor Artifacts for Reaserch)
[] Elise (16x Gubbins, 1x Major Item)
Autosell Minor Items in the future?
[] Yes
[] No
AN: As Item Creation starts producing more secondary items as part of your workshop gaining efficiency, there are two ways I can handle this. Option one, auto-generated items are automatically sold to highest bidders offscreen. Option two, auto-generated items are not sold automatically, and are held in stockpile for voting on in future rounds unless a State of Emergency occurs and you need to get every MG out in the field with more gear than a stick and a prayer. Since this is a systematic change to the format of this quest, I'm making it a voting item at present since it implied items getting sold every round and therefore a major change to the voting system that will reduce player agency in certain day-to-day plot elements and events.
