《Dungeon Item Shop》Chapter 27: Witch-Crafting
Advertisement
Fresh sits cross legged on the floor of their room, inside of the adventurers’ guild. Her cheeks are puffed out, as her hands hold the mushroom-cap, which she hadn’t finished shredding before her ‘fight’ with Jubilee, during the last time that they were here. Her hands glow brightly as she focuses all of her attention onto the task before herself. Fresh’s face is flush and happy though, as she thinks about how she can finally surprise Jubilee in a nice way.
She smiles, humming as she works. Maybe this strange class is a good turn of fortune after all?
(Fresh) uses: [Craftsman: Grind{Fine}] [Crafting: 3]{Dust to dust}
The orange mushroom-cap falls apart into a fine heap of dust, landing in with the rest of the, in comparison, very coarse mixture, collecting inside of a blue snail-shell. Looking up, Fresh looks at her own personal stat-menu screen, which she had left open. Her soul-points haven’t changed at all. Not since she had gotten her class and not even after using her abilities. They’re still the same strange combination of corrupted values. What does this mean, she wonders? Jubilee had said crafting abilities like this cost soul-points to use, that means that she has magic for sure. But… if her soul-points aren’t changing, then at what cost is she using her abilities?
~*+- PROFILE -+*~ HP: 6/6 "FRESH" SOUL: $%§ / §**+'# LEVEL: 5
STATUS: ???
CLASS: [WITCH]
- of the Black-Fountain
OBOLS: 06
SUB-CLASS: [CRAFTSMAN]
RACE: HUMAN
[INVENTORY]
STR: 03 WIS: 03 LUK: 04 DEX: 03 INT: 03 LOV: 03
Fresh shakes her head and sighs. But the sigh gives way to another new and even broader smile, as she stares at her handiwork laying before herself. Grabbing one of their other snail-shells, she pulls it towards herself. There’s nothing left to do now but to wait for Ju-
The door opens and she turns her head, listening to the sound of clinking glass. Jubilee walks in, carrying a small wooden crate, covered with some cloth. They shoot her a curious look. Fresh smiles. "I was just thinking about you!"
Jubilee stares at her for a second, but then just shakes their head. “I’m not used to forming glass like this, so they’re a little weird looking… But here they are,” they explain, apparently deciding to ignore her comment. “Fresh out of the metaphorical oven. But you know these will break, if you see a reflection in them, right?” asks Jubilee, setting the box down next to her.
Fresh nods. “I saw that your glass does that in the dungeon. Why does it do that?”
“It’s magic, don’t know what to tell you. Don’t worry about it,” replies Jubilee
Fresh shrugs. “I have an idea about that though,” she says, closing her eyes and lifting a finger to wag it at Jubilee. “You look away too, okay?”
“Uh, sure? Whatever,” says Jubilee, shrugging indifferently and turning around. “Just don’t do anything weird.”
Fresh reaches into the box, keeping her eyes shut as her fingers grab one of the slim, but very rough, elongated glass chunks inside. Jubilee had made these with their glass-magic. Carefully, she pulls it out of the crate, covering it back up again with the cloth, still keeping her eyes closed as she focuses on her crafting ability.
(Fresh) uses: [Craftsman: Sand{Rough}]
“That should do it…” mutters Fresh and warily opens a single eye. The girl holds her arm back and away from her face, in-case the magical-glass in her hand explodes. Peeking, she looks at the matte, crooked and misshapen glass cylinder that is held in her hand. Light vaguely bounds off of its rough surface, but not in any coherent fashion.
Advertisement
Carefully, she spins it around in her fingers to see if any reflection could be made visible on the surface of the tube.
- Nothing happens.
“…I think it worked…” mumbles Fresh. “JUBILEE! I THINK IT WORKED!” She leaps up in excitement, holding the chunk of glass out to Jubilee, who tilts their head back around to look at it curiously. “Look! Loo- IAH!“ Pressing herself forward, Fresh stumbles over the snail-shell, knocking it over. The glass tube flies out of her hands and she falls down to the ground. The chunk of glass flies down to the floor by the door, shattering apart into a collection of tiny shards.
She lands by Jubilee’s feet, still in one piece.
[FALL DAMAGE: {1}]
[{5} HP remaining !]
“You okay?” asks a very tired voice from next to her.
Laughing meekly, Fresh lifts her face up off of the floor and looks at Jubilee, who is standing above her, gazing down with an expression that she isn’t quite able to discern. “It worked!”
Jubilee tilts their head and looks at the box. “Okay, I’ll admit. That was a surprisingly good idea for you to have.”
Fresh puffs out her cheek, feeling a little insulted at the insinuation and lets out a slight grumble, pushing herself back upright to sit cross-legged in front of Jubilee. She clenches her fists and looks up to their mask with excitement. “Jubilee! I have an idea!”
“You mentioned,” they say, looking around the bare room. “Do I even want to know?”
Fresh leans in towards them. “I got some new crafting abilities with my class. I think being a witch could actually be really useful!”
“How’s that?” asks Jubilee, sighing and walking back a few steps to win some personal space, fidgeting somewhat uncomfortably as Fresh moves closer towards them. Fresh narrows her eyes and stretches her hand outward, pressing her palm flat against the retreating Jubilee’s front, another grumble leaving her throat as she stares at her companion through her squinting eyes. Jubilee looks down at the hand touching them. “- Do you mind?”
“I mind,” grumbles Fresh, letting go as she turns back to the box, a little indignant. “Did you get the pot and the charcoal too?”
“Yeah, it’s in there too, but that was just about the last of your money,” says Jubilee.
Fresh beams. “Thank you!” Closing her eyes she digs into the box again, grabbing hold of the metal pot filled with cold water and pulls it out. Setting it down, she covers the box back up once more.
“So?” asks the annoyed voice.
“So what?” asks Fresh, looking over her shoulder with a vacant expression.
“So what are you going to do with it, goo-brain?” snaps Jubilee, rolling their eyes.
Fresh doesn’t respond, she simply turns back forward and starts humming, as she begins to mix the orange mushroom-powder into the water, using her new knife to stir the pot. Grabbing a piece of the charcoal from the box as well, she holds it above the orange-tinged water. “I was thinking -” starts Fresh, as she works.
“- Oh boy,” interrupts Jubilee, who is quickly met with another narrowed glare and puffed out cheek in return.
Fresh continues, clearing her throat and raising her nose a little. “- I was thinking. We wanted to make the processed mushroom-powder to sell to the alchemists, right?”
Advertisement
(Fresh) uses: [Craftsman: Grind{Fine}]
“Yeah?” replies Jubilee.
Fresh stirs the pot, mixing in the blackened-charcoal into the mushroom concoction. “Well, what if we just skip them too, just like the merchants?”
“Huh?” asks Jubilee, tilting their head.
Fresh raises her free hand, bits of charcoal dust crumble down to the floor around her. Reaching into the box, slipping her hand beneath the cloth, she grabs another one of the hollowed out glass chunks.
(Fresh) uses: [Craftsman: Sand{Rough}]
She then hollows it out, turning it into a long, tubular ‘cup’.
(Fresh) uses: [Craftsman: Hollow{Cylinder}]
Pulling it out, she inspects it to make sure that it doesn’t break if her reflection shows on its surface. “I’ve been trying to make stuff by hand this whole time, but…” the girl closes her eyes tightly, thinking about the three new recipes that she had learned, when she had gotten her primary class.
“What’s with that face? Are you dying?” asks Jubilee sarcastically. “Are you ever going to get to the point?”
Fresh ignores them and dips the glass into the pot, wetting her hand a little but filling the tube with the vaguely brownish mixture, in which heaps of coarse, ashy particulate float. Her hands glow as she focuses. But this time not with the bright aura of the crafting spells. Rather with a dim, dull purple haze.
(Fresh) uses: [Witch-Crafting: Minor-antidote]
[Witch-crafting: 1]{Cold brewing}
[Minor-antidote](Poor)
A small antidote potion, contained inside of a rough glass container. Used to clear minor status effects inflicted by low-level monsters and traps.
+ Cures all minor ailments.
+ Removes all minor poisons.
- ???
- ???
Quality Effect: Side Effects Chance: + 30% Weight: 180 mL Value: ???
The girl carefully opens her eyes and looks at the orange potion in her hands, entirely free of any floating substances or chunks. Though it does look a little darker than the ones at the shop. Beaming, she holds the wet glass ‘tube’ out to Jubilee. “What if we just make the potions ourselves too?!” asks the girl, excitedly, her eyes shining with pride.
Jubilee leans in forward, their hands on their hips as they look at the flask. “What the… where did you…?” Their eyes study the potion disbelievingly.
“It’s my class!” says Fresh, raising her free finger. “Real ’mushroom-picking, cauldron-stirrers’, remember?” she laughs, spinning the finger through the air. Jubilee looks at her face, then down to the potion, then back to her again, as if they can’t process what they’re seeing.
“What the fuck…?”
“- Jubilee!” Fresh leans in towards them rather suddenly, causing them to jump back a step as her face rushes in theirs, her wide eyes shining as she presses herself uncomfortably close against Jubilee’s mask. “I have an idea!”
“How did you make that potion?” asks Jubilee again, pushing her back once again and grabbing the potion at the same time. Spinning it around, they inspect it closely.
Fresh raises a finger, pulling herself back upright. “I have a magic-crafting recipe, thanks to my class. But the trick was to mix the mushroom-powder with charcoal!” exclaims Fresh proudly.
“Charcoal?” asks Jubilee, swirling the concoction around.
“Mm!” nods Fresh excitedly. “Charcoal binds poisons and toxins to itself, so the body can’t absorb them anymore!”
Jubilee looks at her then back to the potion. “You know things? Where did you learn about that?”
“Hmm…” thinks Fresh, placing a finger to her chin as she looks up at the ceiling. Her finger taps her chin several times as she thinks. Where did she learn that? The girl looks back to Jubilee and shrugs. “I think maybe it’s my class? Usually it’s a whole process if you want to make this stuff by hand, because you have to strain it and boil it a few times. But if I use my witch-crafting recipes, I can just make it like that!”
“Huh…” says Jubilee, sounding pleasantly surprised. “So what’s the mushroom-powder for then?”
Fresh taps the side of her head. “For the great tangy flavor and a heavy dose of vitamins!” Jubilee stares at her, lost for words as Fresh grabs the potion back and downs it in a single chug. Letting out a satisfied sigh after she empties the rough glass vial.
A single tear leaves Fresh’s tightly shut eyes, as her fists grip themselves firmly together down in her lap, together with the empty glass. “Thank you, Mr. Mushroom…” she hisses through her clenched teeth, trying not to break down in front of Jubilee, as the wet crystal droplets fall from her eyes. “You really a-are d-delicious!”
Jubilee stares at her. “What the fuck are you talking about? You do realize that might have been poisonous, right?”
Fresh’s eyes shoot open wide, her gaze as if possessed, “JUBILEE! I HAVE AN IDEA!” She repeats once again, shooting forward towards her uneasy companion who can’t back off fast enough anymore. “Let’s make the potions ourselves! Forget the powder! Forget the secret-mixture! Let’s just do it all ourselves and sell them right to the adventurers! No middle-man, just you and me!”
Jubilee looks at her, unsure, their body language more than unsettled.
Fresh goes on, her eyes still just as excited and wild. “We can start with the potions! Then, maybe, I’ll learn some new witch-crafting recipes, so I can process even more of the stuff you find,” she says. “Maybe we can make all sorts of things and just sell them ourselves to the other adventurers? Like we said before, but different!” She grabs Jubilee’s gloved hands and pulls on them. “Pleeease?!”
Jubilee pulls their hands away and shakes them out, before letting out an uneasy groan and turning around. Fresh’s heart drops as Jubilee stands there quietly, their back turned around to her. They don’t saying anything for a time. Did she just mess up? Did she do something wrong? She looks around the room, unsure, only to look back to see Jubilee walking towards the door to leave.
“W- wait!” stumbles out Fresh. “Don’t go!”
“Huh…? What?” Jubilee looks back to her, annoyed. “Fuck off. I’m going to check out what a merchant’s license costs,” they explain. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get a discount because we’re already adventurers.” Jubilee opens the door and looks back to her one last time before leaving. “See you later.”
Advertisement
Wings of Sorrow
Tension permeates the city of Bleakridge as forces within its walls struggle for supremacy. Grim Thorne, the disinherited son of the Earl, is a fly caught in the web of power struggles between these forces. When Grim closes his eyes, he can still see the bodies piled high from the first day of occupation. The day he was branded a bastard in the southern fashion. The day his father let them. Soldiers from the south bearing green cloaks and royal seals maintain order in the streets of Bleakridge, ensuring that the lifeblood of commerce continues to flow through the port city. In the slums beyond the outer wall, the Sons of the Reaper lurk. Some call them heroes, others villains. But all fear them for their relentless devotion to the old ways and the freedom that entails. In the castle above the city, resides the Earl of Bleakridge. The man who bent the knee and saved the lives of his people, if not their souls. After twenty years of occupation, the tension is coming to a head and Grim has to choose. Sympathetic to the Sons, duty bound to his father, and forced into service to the king. He must rise above the brand on his neck and decide where his true loyalties lie. But, after so long, it can be hard to tell who is deserving of loyalty. The King’s men who enforce order with a blood-soaked iron fist? The Sons who more resemble terrorists and crime lords than revolutionaries? Or the father who watches the bloodshed and does nothing? In the end, it is always the place of the young to bear the sins of the old.
8 201The Sword And The Butterfly
Virtuous Masters, terrible Demons.Mortal armies fighting for mortal Kings.Sages reaching for immortality. In such a world, filled with wonder and slaughter, two precocious children try to join a mighty Sectand the ranks of the fabled Cultivators. This is their story.
8 229Destiny of the Aasim
The world is cold, the world is harsh, only the strong will thrive. These are the rules of the Realms. When Raylas, a mercenary, discovers an artifact while on a mission his life is transformed. A destiny beyond his imagination awakens, tying itself to him and dragging him along. With the help of his new companions he will have to forge a way for him to survive as the fates watch his every move. But how will the world react when a new Legend is born? [Updates Monday-Friday]
8 184Eye of Amber
Kosian's life was turned upside down when he saw his brother being taken by men of the Faith, using words like 'cursed' and 'damned'. He did not care if his brother was the Ancient Gods incarnate -- he just wanted a friend with whom he could share his pain, his joy. And, after ten long years of planning, he is finally ready. With the help of a group of mysterious benefactors, Kosian saves his brother, fleeing their home and heading east, towards the port of Bez, accompanied by an unexpected but welcomed band of mercenaries. Meanwhile, Bel, a knight of the order Purtelis, hounds them, dead set on returning the Faith's stolen property. Both groups traverse the peaceful lands of Bollardia, each encountering roaming monsters, ancient evils and simple people, trying to survive. During his travels, Kosian is haunted by strange dreams and visions, all of which keep showing him the same image -- an eye of amber, etched with black runes. The sign of the Divided, masters of magic and saviours of the Seven Races.
8 130Sinner's Resolve: An Agent's Wish
A demon that had never batted an eye while mercilessly reaping the lives of many. A prodigy who accomplished the impossible. A hero that dutifully followed his orders. A messiah of the people. Many titles were given to him, whether it be in praise or in fear, but only one thing could be agreed upon by the people...All who he had ever crossed paths with had met an untimely death. He slowly rose to the top and earned himself the name of Black Death. A nameless person who was eventually awarded a cursed and bloodied name... Must this continue?...... He stared at his hands before turning his gaze towards his next three targets. Their photographs were neatly aligned along his makeshift table, accompanying him inside of a dimly lit room. Each one of them had earned their seat as the best special agents within their respective organizations. There must be a way...There has to be a way... Shaking away his thoughts, he quietly pocketed away the photos before exiting the room. A chance meeting that would forever change his cruel fate, and a wish that would transcend worlds. This is the story of a man who had nothing yet lost everything but a single wish, a silver lining that would completely change his life. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Notes - Hello everyone! This is my first work and I will hopefully stay around for a while. I will try to finish or at least expand on this piece of work for quite some time, expect a few hiatuses in between though, still have a bit of schooling to do. Expected release dates will probably be once a week(not sure yet) after I stabilized the novel a bit as I'm still debating on how I should handle this. I prefer fleshed-out works compared to quick releases, but it also depends on how I'm feeling. I don't have a lot of confidence in my writing skills and I believe that my writing style is a bit weird, but I do want to try my best to tell a story that's worth telling. I will gladly accept criticism but please try to pull the punches back a bit! I'm still only human after all. Very excited to work on this, please take good care of me as I proceed on this journey with all of you! P.S. If you're going into my series, expect to see cliches sprinkled here and there. I personally love cliches and a few tropes! But, that goes without saying, I want to put my own spin on them. Be ready to feel the edge!!! Heh.
8 190Please...
Harry Potter is five years old now, though he does not look it. He looks more like a small four or three year old. But, that's not the end of it.The fact that none of his neighbors know he exists, that he sleeps in a cupboard, even that his parents are dead, is not the end, nor the worst of it. No, the worst, is his uncle. The reason he doesn't speak, look at anyone, barely even breathe. Each night, he hopes for someone to come and save him, but they never come. No matter how hard he wishes, how hard he hopes, it seems he will be stuck there forever, or until his slow, agonizing march to death ends.One night, after hoping and hoping, he starts to realize he will never get saved, helped, even comforted, for his entire life.What if he's wrong, and what if a certain Slytherin can heal this broken child?What if, in turn, this broken child can heal him?THIS IS NOT SNARRY!! If that's your thing that's fine, but HARRY IS FIVE IN THIS FANFIC!! NOT SNARRY!!Do not repost on any other website/account without my permission.
8 125