Preparations II (Solo)
Posted: Wed Jul 21, 2021 9:27 pm
10th of Searing, 121 AS
Location: Lyra's Lab
The newly created stack of Fire infused parchment was placed on a shelf near the stairway leading up to the workshop where most of Lyra’s scrivening supplies could be found. The process had been fairly simple, and the time less trying than Lyra had expected. It was perhaps due in part to her instruction from the odd alchemist Jacun, but Lyra would never be one to admit as much. In any case with the first set of materials created Lyra turned her golden eyes on the next set that needed to be created.
From her conversations with Talon, and her own experience with the man, Lyra had come to know that Aoren was exceptionally skilled at the manipulation of Fire. She could of course prepare the scrolls fully on her own, using the materials in her workshop, but there was always a hard limit on what could be crafted without the aid of one who was truly gifted in the art one wished to mimic. That was the inherent limitation of Scrivening. It could be used to capture magic within scrollwork, but it could not create the magic itself.
Looking to the long bench which held all of her alchemy tools, Lyra eyed the two dragonshards that were at that very moment being extracted of their aether. The shimmering gas like substance was flowing upward through the green tubing, collecting and condensing into a translucent fog state before steadily being drawn down into another set of tubing that was currently cut off with a nozzle. One dragonshard was a Lytirisyte, the other Frostrylyth, both of greater quality. The dragonshards were steadily dimming as their aether was forcefully being expelled from them at a rapid pace. When they were completely emptied the dragonsahrds at last cracked, and them crumbled to dust. That was the way of it. Once the aether had been fully extracted the pathways were exhausted, and the physical structure broke down. Perhaps she could have simply extracted all of the aether at once, but trying to break down a fully charged dragonshard would have been close to suicide. The best method was to drain it completely, and then let it crumble naturally. There was some loss of aether from the process but it was by far the safter option.
To the side sat two beakers, each with a material that would impart resistance to either lightning or frost to the final scroll infusion. As the acid finished its work Lyra would hook up each to the next set of glassware, the entire concoction vaporizing in an instant and being filtered through a column until only a pure aether mixture dripped out at the end into a waiting flask which was corked. Once all the reagents were collected Lyra set up the infusion process, turned the nozzels and let the pure aether from the dragonshard mix with the resistance based aether at a ratio of 1:5, the mixture steadily filling up 3 large flasks each. Just like with the fire resistance drafts Lyra took one of both lightning and ice resistance and poured them into bins with 10 sheets of parchment waiting. A wave of the agitation rod and the process was complete. Lyra was left with 2 stacks of 10 lighting infused and frost infused parchment. IN addition she still had 2 more fasks of Frost and Lightning Resistant’s drafts, which she stored in the box with the Fire drafts. She also ended up with a few small pieces of crystalized aether. These Lyra was careful to not touch with her bare skin, and she stored these in another flask, one for each element of aether. These also went into the waiting box.
With a sigh Lyra turned, brushing her elbow against the edge of the workbench, making the glassware clink together like chimes in the wind. The sound of glass breaking made Lyra turn, and curse when she spotted the source of the noise. ON the floor a small vial lay broken and scattered, a black stain that was once the vial’s contents now covered a small section of the wood flooring. It would stain if it were not cleaned up quickly. With a sigh Lyra knelt and picked up several of the larger pieces of glass and set them on the table while she fetched a small broom and pail. With quick motions the glass was picked up, disposed of, and all that was left was the black liquid. Cloth in hand Lyra knelt once more, but paused as she stared at the liquid.
”Curious, what is…” her whispered words trailed off as she stared. The liquid had started to spread, as most liquids did when spilt, but it was not following a typical spreading pattern. Instead it made odd twisting turns, and currently was beginning to collect near her left foot. Curious, Lyra shifted her foot back slightly and the liquid followed slowly after.
Whats with that stuff? My beer doesn’t follow me around when I spill it, though that would be useful.
”This is…” Lyra glanced up at the place where the vial had fallen from. There were three other vials, each with similar liquid. Then it struck Lyra, and she smiled. Reaching down she touched a finger to the substance, earning a sharp intake of breath from the mercenary as the liquid began to crawl steadily up her hand.
”I had almost forgotten. When I first awakened I needed blood to create ichor, but without a physical form I had no blood to use.” Lyra raised her hand, fascinated as she saw the black liquid pool between her fingers and fill her palm, ”I could, however, create artificial blood. For that however I had to start with a liquid of some form that held my aether, my essence. I had the alchemist condense my essence, the smoke you see, down into this form and used it as the base for everything I make now. I had nearly forgotten.”
Standing to her full height Lyra held her palm up and gently poked the liquid with her other finger. With a bit of thought she was amused to see she could make the condensed version of her smoke ripple, then separate, and even partially form shapes that held little substance and quickly fell back to liquid once more. It had been such a small thing, a means to an end that, once done and used, had been completely forgotten. Lyra had not even recalled placing the remaining vials of her condensed aether there on the edge of the workbench. To think that something so obvious had escaped her. After all this was still a part of her, its form simply changed. She could move it, manipulate it much like she did her ethereal form.
A sudden memory flashed through Lyra’s mind, a painful spike in her head as she clutched at the workbench until the moment passed. She remembered, could almost remember… Something. A familiar sensation of liquid on stone, flowing, changing her form with mere thought or whim. Then it was gone, and Lyra was left with a hole in her thoughts and a heavy weight on her chest.
What was that?
With a shake her head Lyra ignored the question, looking down at the blackness that now spattered on the table. Reaching her hand out she had the liquid roll up her skin once more. There was something she was forgetting, something important. More than that though this discovery gave her odd thoughts, and ideas began to bubble and form beneath the surface of her typical musings.
Glancing to the side Lyra saw the alchemy supplies where they still sat, slightly green in the light. She had not done it in a while, but if her idea was actually possible she would need a lot more of this condensed form of her essence. Over the course of an hour Lyra steadily filled multiple flasks, large and small with as much of her smoke as she could. Then, one by one she connected them to the aetheric condenser. Of all her instruments this one was the simplest in design. A single tube ran up from the needle that stuck through the cork of a flask or vial. The tubing arched up and into a chamber that contained a softly glowing blue coin, a work of runeforging made from a frostlyth shard. That chamber then connected to a funnel that lead to another vial set in a stand. One by one Lyra connected the flasks of her ethereal smoke, watching as they were pulled through the glassware, and when they touched the coil the black smoke condensed to a liquid state and dread steadily down the funnel into the waiting container. At the end of it Lyra was left with 10 flasks of condensed essence, her own personal aether. 2 Flasks were placed in the box with the drafts, but the rest… the rest Lyra had plans for now that she realized the implications.
Location: Lyra's Lab
The newly created stack of Fire infused parchment was placed on a shelf near the stairway leading up to the workshop where most of Lyra’s scrivening supplies could be found. The process had been fairly simple, and the time less trying than Lyra had expected. It was perhaps due in part to her instruction from the odd alchemist Jacun, but Lyra would never be one to admit as much. In any case with the first set of materials created Lyra turned her golden eyes on the next set that needed to be created.
From her conversations with Talon, and her own experience with the man, Lyra had come to know that Aoren was exceptionally skilled at the manipulation of Fire. She could of course prepare the scrolls fully on her own, using the materials in her workshop, but there was always a hard limit on what could be crafted without the aid of one who was truly gifted in the art one wished to mimic. That was the inherent limitation of Scrivening. It could be used to capture magic within scrollwork, but it could not create the magic itself.
Looking to the long bench which held all of her alchemy tools, Lyra eyed the two dragonshards that were at that very moment being extracted of their aether. The shimmering gas like substance was flowing upward through the green tubing, collecting and condensing into a translucent fog state before steadily being drawn down into another set of tubing that was currently cut off with a nozzle. One dragonshard was a Lytirisyte, the other Frostrylyth, both of greater quality. The dragonshards were steadily dimming as their aether was forcefully being expelled from them at a rapid pace. When they were completely emptied the dragonsahrds at last cracked, and them crumbled to dust. That was the way of it. Once the aether had been fully extracted the pathways were exhausted, and the physical structure broke down. Perhaps she could have simply extracted all of the aether at once, but trying to break down a fully charged dragonshard would have been close to suicide. The best method was to drain it completely, and then let it crumble naturally. There was some loss of aether from the process but it was by far the safter option.
To the side sat two beakers, each with a material that would impart resistance to either lightning or frost to the final scroll infusion. As the acid finished its work Lyra would hook up each to the next set of glassware, the entire concoction vaporizing in an instant and being filtered through a column until only a pure aether mixture dripped out at the end into a waiting flask which was corked. Once all the reagents were collected Lyra set up the infusion process, turned the nozzels and let the pure aether from the dragonshard mix with the resistance based aether at a ratio of 1:5, the mixture steadily filling up 3 large flasks each. Just like with the fire resistance drafts Lyra took one of both lightning and ice resistance and poured them into bins with 10 sheets of parchment waiting. A wave of the agitation rod and the process was complete. Lyra was left with 2 stacks of 10 lighting infused and frost infused parchment. IN addition she still had 2 more fasks of Frost and Lightning Resistant’s drafts, which she stored in the box with the Fire drafts. She also ended up with a few small pieces of crystalized aether. These Lyra was careful to not touch with her bare skin, and she stored these in another flask, one for each element of aether. These also went into the waiting box.
With a sigh Lyra turned, brushing her elbow against the edge of the workbench, making the glassware clink together like chimes in the wind. The sound of glass breaking made Lyra turn, and curse when she spotted the source of the noise. ON the floor a small vial lay broken and scattered, a black stain that was once the vial’s contents now covered a small section of the wood flooring. It would stain if it were not cleaned up quickly. With a sigh Lyra knelt and picked up several of the larger pieces of glass and set them on the table while she fetched a small broom and pail. With quick motions the glass was picked up, disposed of, and all that was left was the black liquid. Cloth in hand Lyra knelt once more, but paused as she stared at the liquid.
”Curious, what is…” her whispered words trailed off as she stared. The liquid had started to spread, as most liquids did when spilt, but it was not following a typical spreading pattern. Instead it made odd twisting turns, and currently was beginning to collect near her left foot. Curious, Lyra shifted her foot back slightly and the liquid followed slowly after.
Whats with that stuff? My beer doesn’t follow me around when I spill it, though that would be useful.
”This is…” Lyra glanced up at the place where the vial had fallen from. There were three other vials, each with similar liquid. Then it struck Lyra, and she smiled. Reaching down she touched a finger to the substance, earning a sharp intake of breath from the mercenary as the liquid began to crawl steadily up her hand.
”I had almost forgotten. When I first awakened I needed blood to create ichor, but without a physical form I had no blood to use.” Lyra raised her hand, fascinated as she saw the black liquid pool between her fingers and fill her palm, ”I could, however, create artificial blood. For that however I had to start with a liquid of some form that held my aether, my essence. I had the alchemist condense my essence, the smoke you see, down into this form and used it as the base for everything I make now. I had nearly forgotten.”
Standing to her full height Lyra held her palm up and gently poked the liquid with her other finger. With a bit of thought she was amused to see she could make the condensed version of her smoke ripple, then separate, and even partially form shapes that held little substance and quickly fell back to liquid once more. It had been such a small thing, a means to an end that, once done and used, had been completely forgotten. Lyra had not even recalled placing the remaining vials of her condensed aether there on the edge of the workbench. To think that something so obvious had escaped her. After all this was still a part of her, its form simply changed. She could move it, manipulate it much like she did her ethereal form.
A sudden memory flashed through Lyra’s mind, a painful spike in her head as she clutched at the workbench until the moment passed. She remembered, could almost remember… Something. A familiar sensation of liquid on stone, flowing, changing her form with mere thought or whim. Then it was gone, and Lyra was left with a hole in her thoughts and a heavy weight on her chest.
What was that?
With a shake her head Lyra ignored the question, looking down at the blackness that now spattered on the table. Reaching her hand out she had the liquid roll up her skin once more. There was something she was forgetting, something important. More than that though this discovery gave her odd thoughts, and ideas began to bubble and form beneath the surface of her typical musings.
Glancing to the side Lyra saw the alchemy supplies where they still sat, slightly green in the light. She had not done it in a while, but if her idea was actually possible she would need a lot more of this condensed form of her essence. Over the course of an hour Lyra steadily filled multiple flasks, large and small with as much of her smoke as she could. Then, one by one she connected them to the aetheric condenser. Of all her instruments this one was the simplest in design. A single tube ran up from the needle that stuck through the cork of a flask or vial. The tubing arched up and into a chamber that contained a softly glowing blue coin, a work of runeforging made from a frostlyth shard. That chamber then connected to a funnel that lead to another vial set in a stand. One by one Lyra connected the flasks of her ethereal smoke, watching as they were pulled through the glassware, and when they touched the coil the black smoke condensed to a liquid state and dread steadily down the funnel into the waiting container. At the end of it Lyra was left with 10 flasks of condensed essence, her own personal aether. 2 Flasks were placed in the box with the drafts, but the rest… the rest Lyra had plans for now that she realized the implications.