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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.
Rowland spent a bell or so attempting to improve himself in minute ways.
Secret :
(Wrenmae has to read this bit. I'm not sure it's of interest to anyone else.)
Rowland spent a few chimes writing everything down: lyrics, snippets of ideas, patter, and anything else he had come up with. While he was writing, he pondered on the song. One of these days he would have to head over to the library and look up the bits of the original song that were gibberish to him. He assumed it was mostly Svefra doggerel, as he knew a few words in that language, but he lacked the years necessary to wag his fingers properly in the sailor's cant, so he figured that there were subtle shades to the original song that eluded him.
In any event, he was pleased with his rewrite, using the tune for Ionu and Alvadas.
He also wrote down his various notes about Wanda, Kuvarakh and Alchemy. He wasn't worried about forgetting anything: he had done well at his job precisely because of his good memory; still, years of habit kept him writing everything down.
Even so, that only killed about 5 or 10 chimes. He needed to use up the better part of a bell. Normally he would go out for a run-- or at least a long walk-- but he was fearful that the store would vanish on him should he turn his back. So he decided to do some exercises while waiting for Kuvarakh and Wanda to finish. Lately he'd been running into various girls who could sing and dance and do handstands. Therefore that made him want to do handstands. But he had terribly weak arms.
In a world where neighbors could wake up on the wrong side of town from each other, Rowland was not that concerned with the actual direction of gravity, and so he decided he would do some push-ups against the wall of Wanda's store. First of all he wouldn't ruin his outfit, and secondly he wouldn't work up a sweat. It was all the benefits of passing the time without any of the drudgery! (Also, he feared that he was not yet strong enough to do them against the ground without using his knees.)
Rowland placed his palms flat against the stone wall then spent a few chimes trying to figure out where to put his feet. At first he put his toes up against the wall but a push backward nearly sent him tumbling onto his rear end. Then he tried pulling his legs far from the wall but soon realized he was using his legs to do all the work. Finally he tried standing up a half pace away from the wall and that did the trick. He actually went and did that, and he found that he was naturally exhaling every time he pull away from the wall. It was a nice break from staring at the words he had just been writing, a feeling he would not have even thought about if he hadn't really done it.
Rowland tried to vary his breath but it just made him pant and caused him to feel slight twinges in his elbows. He relaxed, letting his body find its own rhythm, feeling the stone press against his palms while he went backwards and forward. He felt the muscles of his upper arms contract and release. A few times he caught himself using his own weight to simply lean forward, and he had to chastise himself and remind himself that he was doing this so that he could someday do handstands. He straightened himself out physically, locking his knees and stomach as much as possible-- he was no arena gladiator, after all-- and kept at it, except that it very quickly got harder and harder. His arms began to buckle and strain, and he had to stop to rub his left arm. In spite of his best efforts he found himself panting and there came a point where he could not do anything but lean against the wall, utterly defeated when trying to use only his arms and hands.
And so he actually passed most of the next bell resting, leaning against the wall and wondering what it would be like to not breathe. He imagined he would be far more durable if he didn't have to worry about things like eating, sleeping, and recovering energy. 'Well, now it's not just my appearance I have to worry about. Now I need to find ways to become better, faster and stronger.' The list of ways he was insecure or unhappy about himself apparently continued to grow. How was he supposed to become the strong and dashing stage performer he wanted to be if he was smart and puny?
He spent a few chimes listening to his father's disapproving voice-- one drawback of his excellent memory was that all the lectures gained in his teenage years were still with him decades later-- and even the gods could not stand up against such relentless self-hypnotism. When he could no longer meditate on all the ways the universe would be better off without him in his current form he decided to return to Wanda's store.
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Rowland knocked on Wanda's door and then re-entered Alchemmia Alchea. His mind was still pondering all the ways he agreed with his father about his own dismal prospects, but outwardly he smiled and grinned and waved his arms around with a flourish."Greetings again, Kuvarakh. I was just thinking about the two of you. Oh yes, you and Wanda have made a strong and excellent impression on this one; the last bell was spent doing nothing but anticipating your fine craftsmanship! I have returned to see how things turned out!
He glanced around, pondering where Wanda was as he had not seen her leave, then realized she must be in some back area. Shrugging, he decided to focus on the items that Kuvarakh had wrought for him.
Once they were presented to him, he studied them carefully. He pulled out a real Miza, scanned that quickly, then scrutinized Kuvarakh's handiwork. Then he pulled out his book and made some notes, writing about shape and appearance, color and texture. He sniffed both the real and the modified coins, touched both-- he was very ginger with the coins Kuvarakh had created, not yet quite sure if it was just the coin edge that was sharp or the entire coin-- and once he was sure where it was safe, he even licked a real coin and then one of the modified coins. He recorded all his observations down in his book, and they were all variations of the following: "smells/tastes/looks the same, but feels different."
He spoke softly, as only Kuvarakh was around.
"Excellent job. If I had not see the results with my own eyes, I would not have believed this possible. You may tell Wanda that I shall do what I can do send business your way. Remarkable!"
Rowland paused, pondering the skill that went into changing the coins, and his voice took on a rather colorless intellectual monotone. "I assume this was not difficult to do as it only took a bell or so and these are common enough items. If there's anything peculiar about the formula, though, make a note of it, as I will want more. Yes, believe it or not, this is something I may want much more of, though of course I'd pay for the larger batch."
As Kuvarakh would be the one making them, Rowland explained his original idea in a bit more detail: his goal was nothing more or less than to literally give himself an edge in dangerous situations by giving his coins an edge. With a bit of practice and training, they could be used for anything from cutting rope to slicing bread. With far more practice, he could use them like shuriken or throwing stars. Now he got a bit more animated again. "Imagine the possibilities, Kuvarakh. If you can do that, and if I can trust you, I have something more interesting in mind than just adding silly sounds to cloth."
He paused once more, studying the cadaverous face of the conservatively dressed man, then decided to take a chance. "Don't misunderstand: I do want cloth modified. And to keep Wanda happy, I will put in an order as I originally told her. But in addition to that, I have a little side project in mind. To a set of clothes or bundle of cloth, I want to add the toughness of steel."
He rubbed his hands on his jacket. "Imagine an outfit like mine, as flexible as cloth, but impervious to knives or swords."
If steel was out of the question-- or far too expensive-- he'd be willing to settle for chain, leather, perhaps even bark or stone-- anything where the essence of toughness can be stripped out and placed into cloth materials.
"Don't cut yourself." Kuvarakh warned as Rowland picked up the two modified mizas. He tried to keep his assessment of the man as an "odd bird" off his face as Rowland went through a series of peculiar examinations. He saw the note the man wrote down in his book and confirmed aloud that it should feel different, as it was now hardened, weaponsmith grade steel, denser and tempered.
Rowland's ensuing comments made Kuvarakh feel compelled to clarify, "Its difficulty was not so much due to whether the items used were common, or already modified by previous activations. It was more that, common or not, it was all able to be done in a single transmutation. Otherwise it should be another bell, plus whatever amount of time I require to regain my djed balance, ten or twenty chimes. To be completely honest, if I had intended to charge you, I'd have advised you to have the handle removed from the tang of the blade. That would have spared you the costs of two filters."
He felt a little uncomfortable now, having made several more of the "miza-blades" out of his own mizas during the process. He didn't know if Rowland would feel like he'd been exploited somehow. Kuvarakh didn't think the man should feel that way, and didn't want to assume, but you never knew. He knew it was best to find out now, but the man had already launched into a description of his goals regarding the little slicers.
Rowland paused a moment, and Kuvarakh thought the man might be about to ask him if something was bothering him when, instead, he revisited the subject of modified cloth, particularly cloth modified to be tough as steel. "There are working theories on such transmutations." he ventured, "but this is a much greater process...MUCH greater. It is not so much that it is a difficult concept, but that it has to be greatly reinforced by repetition."
He gestured to one of the "miza-blades" and continued, "An activation like that is not changing the nature of anything that dramatically. In fact, for the most part, I am preventing the change by filtering out the materials that would have begun to effect such a change; the leather and resin. And using a second miza to maintain the color scheme on something that is already that color is essentially the same. I am only reinforcing something already existing, to prevent the presence of a different color from having any effect."
He retrieved an unmodified gold miza and set it next to one of the new ones. He let them drop. The tone of the modified was a far sharper, richer and clearer ring than the plain one. "You can plainly hear the altered tone, but it is still iron based metal in both samples. No real change, more of a purification. But to bring the steel's quality of hardness to cloth, while maintaining the flexibility of the cloth...ahhh...that is the trick. I have not done anything so drastic. I have done cloth to leather and back, and even that will take two or three sets of cross-balancing reversals of property."
He did not really wish to go into a long, step-by-step dissertation on the degrees of alteration brought on by each activation. This was as much because of the simple tiresome nature of lecturing a fellow with no experience, and having to clarify terminology along the way, as it was the fact the he himself did not really know how many activations it would take. He did not want to make an overly optimistic promise, nor did he want to discourage the man. He knew it could be done and wanted to have reason to try it. But he needed to come as clean as possible.
"The other detail is that this is a process where it may be necessary to do a single item at a time. It's not that I couldn't do a roll of cloth as an item, but how is the tailor going to cut and stitch it when it is as tough as steel?"
Rowland listened carefully to everything Kuvarakh had said. He slumped a bit forward as the Nuit spoke, his eyes downcast, and he let out a wistful sigh. It was clear that if Rowland had learned one thing about Alchemy, it was that it was neither easy nor instantaneous. Results might be achieved but it would take considerable time and effort to get from here to there. Certainly most of the season, perhaps spring or summer, too.
He shook his head and spoke softly, trying not to sound discouraged. "Hmm. That changes matters considerably. For one thing, it appears that this would be a situation where I'd only be able to do a single outfit, and as such I'll need time to contemplate which outfit this should be. Also, it seems like this is something that would have to be done in quite a few steps. Perhaps giving a shirt the toughness of a canvas sail might be a better first attempt, as both are made out of variations of cloth."
Rowland's best friend was a Svefra so he knew a bit about what a basic casinor looked like and constituted. Even so, it would take him time to get a hold of some sails and shirts for Kuvarakh to practice on.
The human wrote a few more items down, though this bit appeared to be strictly mathematical; a businessman like Kuvarakh could see that Rowland was doing some very simple accounting of what he might need in initial Mizas and time and supplies. "Hmm. Looks like I must cut my vacation sort. Any way I slice these numbers, I'll be needing a steady paycheck to finance my dreams, especially ... well, you would find my circumstances boring. I'll be back in a few days instead of a few bells and chimes, I'm afraid."
Rowland had two agendas for two different outfits. The first would apparently take quite some time. The second outfit, the one he currently wore, he would return soon with an idea of which of Wanda's ideas he wanted to implement. He wanted to think on it before making any final decision but he liked her idea of a rainbow of sparkling colors, ever-shifting, his cloak wind blown even inside.
He tore a page from his book and handed it to Kuvarakh. "I've enjoyed myself today, even if it turns out that things are more complicated than I originally envisioned. I'm not easily daunted, but I do have to make some other preparations. Here is my name and address for your files. Feel free to come by as time permits." He jotted down a few dates when he specifically knew he'd be home and around.
Rowland spent a few more minutes chatting amiably about some of his other pursuits-- he agreed with Wanda that he needed all the help he could get in his studies of the occult and arcane-- but he did not want to waste business hours discussing such things when Wanda and Kuvarakh were both clearly busy. Such a chat would be better in the privacy of a residence when there would be no chance interruptions from customers or anyone else.
Once he thought about it, he decided that their next project would be the cloak. He left it with Kuvarakh to study and measure and whatever else he needed to do.
Then he thanked Wanda and Kuvarakh both for their time, and went off on his way.
