Post by Fletcher on Sept 30, 2015 8:49:24 GMT
It became apparent just how the enonomy of Londinium seemed to work. It was similar to how the real world economy worked, but less excessible due to the sudden culture shock of losing many pieces of technology that they had taken for granted. To be fair, some of these had been replaced with magic, which in itself was a convenience although in a different class to what he was used to. Fletcher knew that if he wanted to go up in the world, he'd need to make it either as an adventurer hunting rare bounties of rare drops from missions. Unfortunately, without a guild nor solid raiding party, hunting down bosses wasn't on the table for consideration. He'd run into a few allies, but nothing that could really be called a proper party.
What that left was his craft as an Alchemist. Now trinkets were something people always wanted, even if it was because they wanted the next new thing for their own sake, or wanted a new toy out of boredom. The dwarf had noticed that some people had become complacent from settling into a way of life that let them do mostly what they pleased. Some wanted small devices that let them see things in a different way, or others that just boosted their abilities at what other activites they were doing. Fletcher could provide all these and more assuming he had the money, and unfortunately he generally found that most of his projects ended up breaking even aside from the experience gained to level his Alchemist subclass. While experience was nice, he'd need more money to buy bigger and better things; perhaps finally getting around to paying off the loan on a house, high end Summoner gear, purchasing enough potions to see him through a few adventures to name only a few. It was a testament to how gold ruled over all, no matter who you are.
Today, Fletcher found himself in the tavern during breakfast, looking to the patrons in the place and considering the best way to make his mark on the market for MagiTech devices. There were a few recipes he could try, but nothing that was an instant money maker. After all, if it was, there would've been someone to do it already. He gently grabbed his drink refill from Celeste as she came by, commenting casually. "What do you reckon, Celeste? What is it that these folk need that I could make or sell to them?" Now Celeste had heard all of this before; Fletcher had come up with plans in the past for some crazy Alchemy based social experiment to fulfill some need to get some amount of money out of people from the tavern. Granted, his last experiment was a damage reduction device was already something on the market, but that all started with him getting struck by his own Carbuncle in an attempt to conduct 'calibrations'.
"Honestly? Most of the people that come here either want something to eat or a place to stay." She looked over the same group of people that the dwarf was looking at and clicked her tongue. "Why don't you just ask people? Surely that'd be faster than just thinking about it." She was completely right, although the problem with how the world worked now, any Alchemist better than him could take that idea and then take all the money that came with it. Not an ideal situation to say the least.
Fletcher grumbled as the pause between them lengthened before speaking up. "Too many competitors out there, Celeste. Good ideas get turned into gold asa soon as they pass the lips, have to know the need and then fill it before anyone else can establish themselves." The dwarf looked up to Celeste, pulling his gaze away from a table of adventurers comparing gear. "The person that can crack the code of how to build an airship first is going to be raking in the big bucks."
Celeste placed her cheek in a hand and looked back at the dwarf, unconvinced. "That would be a large undertaking for even a couple of adventurers to accomplish. You wouldn't be able to keep that project small or very secret for very long if you wanted to try it." She had a point, which meant anything to grandeous was out of the question. He needed something smaller, some small trinket that people would fawn over and buy up as if it were Christmas. He was no closer to knowing what it was that this thing needed to be, but at least he had one trait to go off of after mentioning it to Celeste. Fletcher got up out of his chair and stretched, handing Celeste a small pouch of gold to settle his tab and bring it back into the green.
"I'm going to head out for a walk, maybe get some inspiration while I'm out and about." Celeste nodded and said that she'd see him at dinner before returning to servicing the other tables in the tavern. Fletcher in the meantime wandered out into the street and ttried to decide where to go. It was early, and so people were only now starting to become active with what the day had ahead of them. There were a few places he could go depennding on what he wanted to do. The Windsor Greatwood was an option, although he didn't particularly feel compelled to go fight lower levelled monsters for meagre gains. He could wander about the markets in hopes of a good deal, but that was counter productive to what he wanted to do in terms of gaining money. While spending money to make money was something he was very aware of, there was no need to go spending mindlessly just because he could. Letting his feet take him as they may, the dwarf started strolling casually through the town.
The architecture was something that he had grown fond of, from the brick houses down to how some of the gardens had vines overgrowing the walls of said houses. The weather seemed promising as well, with a clearish sky and very little signs of rain without it being scorching hot. Perhaps it was his dwarven frame, but he had found that since becoming a dwarf he had not been able to tolerate the hot days was well but was better off in the cold. It was an odd feeling, and much preferred it the other way given he could put on a sweater and be fine, but if he had to cope with the heat, so be it. Perhaps the item he needed to make was something as simple as an electric fan or air-conditioning system that used Elemental Source Spheres to regulate temperature?
Fletcher scratched his beard, tempted to pursure that experiment purely for his own benefit. As a home owner, having furnishings without knowing a Woodworker was hard, but at least he had Sark to turn to if he needed something more soft like a cushion. He'd found that trading his services for skillsets he didn't have was preferable to him and how he conducted business. While the income was nice to get more materials, sometimes it was easier to know you were just getting what you were going to set out and buy anyway. There was also the added benefit of getting the items at cost price, but he didn't mind not charging for his time if he was doing a trade anyway; doing this stuff kept him occupied when he couldn't sleep.
After wandering around for some time, Fletcher ended up in the marketplace outside one of his more favoured stores, one that was comparable to a trash and treasure market condensed into a single storefront. How they kept in business he had no clue, but he had bought a few things from there before to experiment with in his alchemy experiments. He didn't originally intend to spend money, and hopefully that stayed that way, but having a small look couldn't hurt, surely. As he pushed open the door, the small bell that dangled just above the door rang to signal a new customer. Not that it would've been hard to find Fletcher given that there was no one else around to purchase stufff. The storekeeper muttered something to himself and spun around to see who had come in to buy something. "Oh, it's just you Fletcher. What brings you in today?" Was a legitimate question backed by a sincere interest.
The dwarf shrugged, picking up an oversized bolt sitting on a shelf nearby to look at it before putting it back down. "Just out for a stroll, Warren. Trying to figure out what to make next and make me my own fortune." The place was full of junk, Warren and Fletcher both knew that, but tinkerers loved junk to test out ideas and theories without having to spend the big money.
"Oh yeah?" The shopkeeper adjusted his suspenders before ungraciously wiping his bulbous nose on his sleeve. "What kinda things you thinkin'? We got a new shipment of old ship parts that are a little holey, but they should be good once you clean off the rust."
"Holy? Why would ship parts be holy?" Fletcher gave the other dwarf a confused look before putting down another odd machine part he had picked up, back down.
"Well it's been at the bottom of the ocean of somesuch, right? Washed ashore in bits and brought in by some adventurers. Bloomin' old based on the stuff I've seen before." Warren pulled out a book and ran his finger down one of the pages. "Yeah, here it is. Some kind of old brigand ship that belonged to a lord based on some of the fixtures the adventurers brought in."
"Wait, so it was holy because this guy, the lord, some kind of church official?" Fletcher had wandered over to a big pile of broken MagiTech parts, picking up something that resembled a whisk before putting it into a pseudo 'maybe pile' to the side of the bin he had pulled it out from.
"You reckon the church didn't like him all that much? Suppose that would explain the holes." Fletcher stopped rummaging, giving Warren an odd look. before the dwarf continued, holding his hands together with his fingers forming a large circle. "Reckon the holes were about this big."
"Sorry, I thought you meant 'holy', not 'holey'." Fletcher shook his head.
"That's what I said! 'Holey'! Who would ever make a ship 'holy' anyway?" Warren put the book back underneath the counter before pulling out some metal box before taking a longer bit of metal to it to pry it open. "Suppose it would be holy if it belonged to one of them gods people exist in."
"Not a religious man, Warren?" Fletcher smirked. He wasn't all that religious, although he thought there was possibly something pulling the strings. He'd lost a lot of faith when his two girls died, unsure what kind of benefic diety would wish that upon their own creation. "I tend to be more spiritual these days rather than religious. Easy as owning a dog."
Warren scoffed. "Yeah, that 'dog' you talk about doesn't count. You don't need to feed him any or take him for walks or do any of that other hard work that you'd do with a normal dog." The dwarf managed to pull the box apart before tipping out the contents, retrieving what appeared to be a rusted spring, some kind of glassy orb and some dust. "Sometimes I think that thing is the master and you're the pet, Fletcher."
Fletcher couldn't help but laugh. Lately Carbuncle had been a bit more daring in sitting at the table in the tavern, and hitching rides around on his shoulder. Granted, the summoner did nothing to discourage said behavious, so it was entirely his own fault. "Well, maybe it is sometimes. Carbuncle's not so bad though, just need to treat it right." Warren gave Fletcher an unimpressed look that said quite plainly that he wasn't sold. "Really!
Without breaking eye contact, Warren grabbed something from under the counter and placed it heavily on the countertop so Fletcher could see. "This is the boot it chewed through the last time we went out for drinks." Fletcher brushed it off but Warren continued, putting another, different boot on the countertop. "Need I say more?"
Fletcher looked bewteen the two mismatched boots and Warren before chuckling. "I don't think your old workboots are a fair piece of evidence here, I know they had holes in them before Carbuncle got to them. Don't go pretending that they're two seperate pairs either, you're wearing mismatched shoes even now!"
Warren went to went to make a comment but stopped, mouth open and index finger raised for emphasis before he looked down and cleared his throat, starting again in a polite, calm manner. "Be that as it may, they were still my favourite pair of mismatched, holey shoes." Fletcher sniggered and Warren quickly added. "With holes! Not blessed by the church!"
Word Count: 2184
What that left was his craft as an Alchemist. Now trinkets were something people always wanted, even if it was because they wanted the next new thing for their own sake, or wanted a new toy out of boredom. The dwarf had noticed that some people had become complacent from settling into a way of life that let them do mostly what they pleased. Some wanted small devices that let them see things in a different way, or others that just boosted their abilities at what other activites they were doing. Fletcher could provide all these and more assuming he had the money, and unfortunately he generally found that most of his projects ended up breaking even aside from the experience gained to level his Alchemist subclass. While experience was nice, he'd need more money to buy bigger and better things; perhaps finally getting around to paying off the loan on a house, high end Summoner gear, purchasing enough potions to see him through a few adventures to name only a few. It was a testament to how gold ruled over all, no matter who you are.
Today, Fletcher found himself in the tavern during breakfast, looking to the patrons in the place and considering the best way to make his mark on the market for MagiTech devices. There were a few recipes he could try, but nothing that was an instant money maker. After all, if it was, there would've been someone to do it already. He gently grabbed his drink refill from Celeste as she came by, commenting casually. "What do you reckon, Celeste? What is it that these folk need that I could make or sell to them?" Now Celeste had heard all of this before; Fletcher had come up with plans in the past for some crazy Alchemy based social experiment to fulfill some need to get some amount of money out of people from the tavern. Granted, his last experiment was a damage reduction device was already something on the market, but that all started with him getting struck by his own Carbuncle in an attempt to conduct 'calibrations'.
"Honestly? Most of the people that come here either want something to eat or a place to stay." She looked over the same group of people that the dwarf was looking at and clicked her tongue. "Why don't you just ask people? Surely that'd be faster than just thinking about it." She was completely right, although the problem with how the world worked now, any Alchemist better than him could take that idea and then take all the money that came with it. Not an ideal situation to say the least.
Fletcher grumbled as the pause between them lengthened before speaking up. "Too many competitors out there, Celeste. Good ideas get turned into gold asa soon as they pass the lips, have to know the need and then fill it before anyone else can establish themselves." The dwarf looked up to Celeste, pulling his gaze away from a table of adventurers comparing gear. "The person that can crack the code of how to build an airship first is going to be raking in the big bucks."
Celeste placed her cheek in a hand and looked back at the dwarf, unconvinced. "That would be a large undertaking for even a couple of adventurers to accomplish. You wouldn't be able to keep that project small or very secret for very long if you wanted to try it." She had a point, which meant anything to grandeous was out of the question. He needed something smaller, some small trinket that people would fawn over and buy up as if it were Christmas. He was no closer to knowing what it was that this thing needed to be, but at least he had one trait to go off of after mentioning it to Celeste. Fletcher got up out of his chair and stretched, handing Celeste a small pouch of gold to settle his tab and bring it back into the green.
"I'm going to head out for a walk, maybe get some inspiration while I'm out and about." Celeste nodded and said that she'd see him at dinner before returning to servicing the other tables in the tavern. Fletcher in the meantime wandered out into the street and ttried to decide where to go. It was early, and so people were only now starting to become active with what the day had ahead of them. There were a few places he could go depennding on what he wanted to do. The Windsor Greatwood was an option, although he didn't particularly feel compelled to go fight lower levelled monsters for meagre gains. He could wander about the markets in hopes of a good deal, but that was counter productive to what he wanted to do in terms of gaining money. While spending money to make money was something he was very aware of, there was no need to go spending mindlessly just because he could. Letting his feet take him as they may, the dwarf started strolling casually through the town.
The architecture was something that he had grown fond of, from the brick houses down to how some of the gardens had vines overgrowing the walls of said houses. The weather seemed promising as well, with a clearish sky and very little signs of rain without it being scorching hot. Perhaps it was his dwarven frame, but he had found that since becoming a dwarf he had not been able to tolerate the hot days was well but was better off in the cold. It was an odd feeling, and much preferred it the other way given he could put on a sweater and be fine, but if he had to cope with the heat, so be it. Perhaps the item he needed to make was something as simple as an electric fan or air-conditioning system that used Elemental Source Spheres to regulate temperature?
Fletcher scratched his beard, tempted to pursure that experiment purely for his own benefit. As a home owner, having furnishings without knowing a Woodworker was hard, but at least he had Sark to turn to if he needed something more soft like a cushion. He'd found that trading his services for skillsets he didn't have was preferable to him and how he conducted business. While the income was nice to get more materials, sometimes it was easier to know you were just getting what you were going to set out and buy anyway. There was also the added benefit of getting the items at cost price, but he didn't mind not charging for his time if he was doing a trade anyway; doing this stuff kept him occupied when he couldn't sleep.
After wandering around for some time, Fletcher ended up in the marketplace outside one of his more favoured stores, one that was comparable to a trash and treasure market condensed into a single storefront. How they kept in business he had no clue, but he had bought a few things from there before to experiment with in his alchemy experiments. He didn't originally intend to spend money, and hopefully that stayed that way, but having a small look couldn't hurt, surely. As he pushed open the door, the small bell that dangled just above the door rang to signal a new customer. Not that it would've been hard to find Fletcher given that there was no one else around to purchase stufff. The storekeeper muttered something to himself and spun around to see who had come in to buy something. "Oh, it's just you Fletcher. What brings you in today?" Was a legitimate question backed by a sincere interest.
The dwarf shrugged, picking up an oversized bolt sitting on a shelf nearby to look at it before putting it back down. "Just out for a stroll, Warren. Trying to figure out what to make next and make me my own fortune." The place was full of junk, Warren and Fletcher both knew that, but tinkerers loved junk to test out ideas and theories without having to spend the big money.
"Oh yeah?" The shopkeeper adjusted his suspenders before ungraciously wiping his bulbous nose on his sleeve. "What kinda things you thinkin'? We got a new shipment of old ship parts that are a little holey, but they should be good once you clean off the rust."
"Holy? Why would ship parts be holy?" Fletcher gave the other dwarf a confused look before putting down another odd machine part he had picked up, back down.
"Well it's been at the bottom of the ocean of somesuch, right? Washed ashore in bits and brought in by some adventurers. Bloomin' old based on the stuff I've seen before." Warren pulled out a book and ran his finger down one of the pages. "Yeah, here it is. Some kind of old brigand ship that belonged to a lord based on some of the fixtures the adventurers brought in."
"Wait, so it was holy because this guy, the lord, some kind of church official?" Fletcher had wandered over to a big pile of broken MagiTech parts, picking up something that resembled a whisk before putting it into a pseudo 'maybe pile' to the side of the bin he had pulled it out from.
"You reckon the church didn't like him all that much? Suppose that would explain the holes." Fletcher stopped rummaging, giving Warren an odd look. before the dwarf continued, holding his hands together with his fingers forming a large circle. "Reckon the holes were about this big."
"Sorry, I thought you meant 'holy', not 'holey'." Fletcher shook his head.
"That's what I said! 'Holey'! Who would ever make a ship 'holy' anyway?" Warren put the book back underneath the counter before pulling out some metal box before taking a longer bit of metal to it to pry it open. "Suppose it would be holy if it belonged to one of them gods people exist in."
"Not a religious man, Warren?" Fletcher smirked. He wasn't all that religious, although he thought there was possibly something pulling the strings. He'd lost a lot of faith when his two girls died, unsure what kind of benefic diety would wish that upon their own creation. "I tend to be more spiritual these days rather than religious. Easy as owning a dog."
Warren scoffed. "Yeah, that 'dog' you talk about doesn't count. You don't need to feed him any or take him for walks or do any of that other hard work that you'd do with a normal dog." The dwarf managed to pull the box apart before tipping out the contents, retrieving what appeared to be a rusted spring, some kind of glassy orb and some dust. "Sometimes I think that thing is the master and you're the pet, Fletcher."
Fletcher couldn't help but laugh. Lately Carbuncle had been a bit more daring in sitting at the table in the tavern, and hitching rides around on his shoulder. Granted, the summoner did nothing to discourage said behavious, so it was entirely his own fault. "Well, maybe it is sometimes. Carbuncle's not so bad though, just need to treat it right." Warren gave Fletcher an unimpressed look that said quite plainly that he wasn't sold. "Really!
Without breaking eye contact, Warren grabbed something from under the counter and placed it heavily on the countertop so Fletcher could see. "This is the boot it chewed through the last time we went out for drinks." Fletcher brushed it off but Warren continued, putting another, different boot on the countertop. "Need I say more?"
Fletcher looked bewteen the two mismatched boots and Warren before chuckling. "I don't think your old workboots are a fair piece of evidence here, I know they had holes in them before Carbuncle got to them. Don't go pretending that they're two seperate pairs either, you're wearing mismatched shoes even now!"
Warren went to went to make a comment but stopped, mouth open and index finger raised for emphasis before he looked down and cleared his throat, starting again in a polite, calm manner. "Be that as it may, they were still my favourite pair of mismatched, holey shoes." Fletcher sniggered and Warren quickly added. "With holes! Not blessed by the church!"
Word Count: 2184
