Chapter 141: A Proven Mixture (1/2)
As soon as he stepped in, Mike was overwhelmed by the smell of the place. The store was filled with the riotous and choking scent of hundreds of different chemicals all rolled into one. Combined with the omnipresent dust, it would take someone with a decent Endurance to even enter through the front door, let alone peruse the shop's wares. He surprised that such a place could stay in business.
He glanced around the dimly lit chamber, examining the menagerie of unusual sights. It reminded him of an old antique store, filled with unusual treasure, but suffering from years of neglect. Bits and pieces of occult paraphernalia were scattered around the room. Shelves lined the walls, and tables covered the majority of the floor, both of which were covered in an odd assortment of vials, jars, boxes, and other miscellaneous alchemical accoutrements.
As far as Mike could tell, the proprietor wasn't present, so he spent some time wandering the floor, randomly appraising the things he found. The majority of it was composed of Tier 1 materials, some of which had the 'spoiled' condition listed in their description.
Spotting a pull cord hanging from the ceiling near something that looked like a sales counter, Mike gave it a tug, assuming it was some kind of signaling device. However, the cord refused to move, so he gave it a slightly harder pull. Still no luck. Finally, he jerked it hard, putting some of his enhanced strength to the task.
With an audible snap the cord broke.
[Whoops.]
Looking around for a place to put the now useless length of rope, he was startled by a wheezing cough from the depths of a nearby display. He quickly shoved the cord into the mouth of a stuffed bear head, before turning to face the person making the noise.
An ancient looking woman emerged from a pile of dusty furs, having blended in so thoroughly that if she hadn't moved, he wouldn't have noticed her at all. Dressed in a dirty gray dress, and stooped from age, she glared blearily around the store, before finally settling a pair of watery eyes on Mike.
”Don't recognize ye, boy. What are ye doing here?” The woman croaked grumpily.
Mike took a moment to use Appraise, before answering.
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Gail Ignathian
Age: 96
Race: Human
Class: Grand Alchemist
Title: Mistress of Mixtures
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[Well, at least I know I'm in the right place.]
”My apologies ma'am, I didn't mean to...wake you?” He shook his head before continuing. ”I had hoped to buy a few alchemical goods.”
”A customer then. I hate customers.” The woman replied while shuffling over to stand in front of him. Mike didn't have any time to work his head around that paradox, before Gail spoke again impatiently. ”Well, out with it. What do ye want? If ye can't tell, I don't exactly have a lot of time to waste.”
[Weren't you just sleeping in a pile of old furs?] Mike kept the impolite thought to himself.
”I'd like to pick up a number of items.” He said while fetching the list he'd built over the course of the last few hours.
Gail accepted it skeptically, while pulling a massive set of spectacles from the one of the many pockets of her apron. She squinted at it for a few minutes, before handing it back to him. ”Hmph, what are ye, a novice? This is all basic stuff ye could get at any crafting supplies store.”
[Good to know, I guess.]
”That's correct. I'm actually a student at the University, and I recently started practicing Alchemy. I had hoped to acquire the tools necessary to start working on it while at home.” He replied in as ingratiating a voice as possible.
Taking off her glasses, Gail squinted up at him. ”Ye'd best go find a supply store. I only sell to serious alchemists.” Giving a dismissive wave, she turned and started walking back over to the fur pile, grumbling about 'interrupting her nap for such a thing.'
[Oh no, I'm not hunting for some other alchemy store in the midst of this confusing district. I refuse to give up.]
”Who said I wasn't a serious alchemist?” He asked sharply.
Gail gave him a cold glare over her shoulder. ”Yer a beginner, plain and simple. Ye don't even really know what kind of tools ye need to ask for. Instead yer blindly trusting the guidance of some book, am I right?”
He had to give her that one. ”Although that might be the case, it doesn't mean I am not seriously pursuing the path of alchemy. I have every intention of mastering this profession. In the short period of time that I've practiced it, the things I've seen and created have shown me that it's a course worth following.”
”Ha, easy enough to say. Ye are still a novice. What could ye have made that was so impressive?”
Figuring that he would need to double down in the figurative sense, he wordlessly pulled a vial of coppery liquid out, and placed it on the counter. The sight of it caused Gail to freeze for a second, before she hurried over to inspect the item in question. Removing the stopper, she took a whiff.
”This is Panacea, although it's a low grade one. Where'd ye get this?” She asked in a slightly confused voice.
”I made it.”
”Ha! Do ye have any idea how much effort is required to make this kind of potion? If any novice could do it, it wouldn't be such a rare item.”
Frowning, Mike replied sternly. ”I can prove it. Let me use your materials and equipment, and I'll make it in front of you.”