Alchemy

Ladies and gentleman, as you may have heard, our bard has come down with a stomach flu on account of spoiled jerky. But fear not, we have a very special guest who, in exchange for clearing a hefty tab, will be speaking with authority on her vocation. So, without further ado…

Hello! My name is Nell Barrow and I am an alchemist. A journee botanical alchemist to be exact. That means I’ve graduated from my novice school, Maple Hall in the Capital if you really want to know, and am working towards master status through both study and practical accomplishment involving the alchemical application of plants. I love it.

The boring definition of alchemy is ‘the transmogrification of natural elements into objects of practical use’. That’s all well and good but I much prefer the definition provided by my favorite professor, Liza Mayfly, who said, ‘alchemy is the study of relationships between all things in the universe. Long before we humans walked through the forests, plants and stones and rivers and fire all spoke to one another. We, as children of science, seek to learn and speak the language of all things. A bit like cooking really…’

It’s through that curiosity that alchemists have created potions that can instantly mend wounds, swords that can glow like the sun, or crystals that will warm body even in the coldest depths of the world. Our works have become invaluable to healers, adventurers and sorcerers alike.

Now that introductions are dealt with, let’s move onto the primary schools of alchemy within the known world.

Botanical Alchemy

As I stated earlier, botanical alchemy focuses on the use of plants. As you’ll find, however, almost all schools borrow and bend from one another. A potion of night-sight, for example, is a combination of the archer’s eye flower, silver leaf, and an ounce of crushed twilight stone, but I digress.

We botanical alchemists study extensively in the identification of plants and herbs, distillation, fermentation, and a bunch of other -ations. Our tools are mortar and pestle, flasks and rash ointment. We are adventurous folk. We detest remaining idle in crowded cities but instead seek the forests, hills and bog alike. You never know what rare flower may be hiding under the next leaf and so it is imperative to march on. Our best friends are the badger, the dragonfly and the stag.

Many accredit botanical alchemy with being the very first of all schools. It makes sense really. Imagine primitive humans wandering the forests, eating various plants only to discover how the leaf of the blue bishop flower, when combined with red root, relieved a headache. Being creatures of imagination, as we are, the rest was soon to follow.

A more recent, and I daresay controversial theory, is that humans learned the art of botanical alchemy from the original peoples of this world, the faye. Naked and afraid, we were taken in by the practical and trusting faye folk who taught us which herbs could heal and what flowers would harm. We took this knowledge but it wasn’t enough. Humans are at our best peoples of imagination and passion. At our worst, we are conniving, deceitful and violent. We betrayed the faye, to their extinction. I don’t know the truth of it, but I pray it is not what I’ve just told you.

Notable schools include Maple Hall in The Capital (though I wouldn’t recommend it…), Oxbridge in Watercross, and Twin Tower Gardens in County Herring.

Celestial Alchemy

The most recently discovered, and therefore least understood discipline, is celestial alchemy. This school harnesses the energy of stars or other celestial bodies and applies them in various ways.

Margaret Bloom was a professor of alchemy at the Ivywood College who was fascinated by the use of lenses and mirrors. She was convinced that they held unseen applications in the practices of transmogrification. Her results were inconclusive, that is, until she looked upward.

While sitting on the roof of the college one night, pondering over her recent studies, Margret became distracted by variations in celestial bodies. Stars that burned brighter than others, some that flickered rapidly or had a blueish hue. From there Margret thought those two magikal words that have led to both wondrous discovery as well as explosive disaster, ‘what if?’

The cornerstone of all celestial alchemy is the use of capture crystals. These wondrous stones are able to absorb and contain the different energies of stars through the focus of telescopic mirrors and lenses. Once contained they create objects that can illuminate the blackest night, freeze anything they touch, or explode with immense force.

Celestial alchemists seldom stray from their great observatories atop crumbling towers. They’re nocturnal by necessity and so it not wise to wake them before noon. Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule. Some are known to venture into the wild to experiment with the observation of celestial bodies from different locations. It’s said that the star Assura can only be viewed from atop the Black Reef Mountains. If true, what other secrets of our stars are waiting to be discovered?

Notable schools include the Royal Observatory in The Capital, the Planetarium Magnus in the Eastern Riverlands and The Evening Star Overlook atop Mt Caraway.

Metallurgical Alchemy

The study of metallurgical alchemy did not begin as such. In fact, it was simply the development of various forms of smithing that sowed the fields of knowledge. Through passed down technique and good old trial and error, the works of some of the more advanced smithing schools became noticed by the alchemical colleges. They were folded in, pun intended, to the larger menagerie of alchemy sciences.

Metallurgical alchemists focus on the use and transmogrification of stone, ore, metals, gemstones, and really any other product of the ground that one might trip over. They work with hammer, cupel and tong as they harness the magikal properties of the earth.

Metallurgical alchemists are typically a rough sort. They spend their summers spelunking the deepest caves or climbing the highest peaks in search of anything shiny. When winter comes, they toil away in blazing forges, hammering away at ore hotter than the sun. All this lack of recreation leads to thick calluses and short tempers.

Notable alchemists in this field include Seamus Longreed who created fire iron. You have him to thank for all those fancy knights with flaming swords who burn down taverns whenever they want to show off their honking great swords.

Kelly Everguud is commonly mistaken as a celestial alchemist for her invention of the capture crystal, those brilliant blue stones that are integral to the work of celestial alchemists. Kelly was, however, a master of geologics who infused common tourmaline crystals with essence of albright and azure quartz. Thanks to her we can hold the energy of distant stars in the palm of our hands.

Duncan, er he didn’t have a last name, created cloud glass. This strange mirror reflects anything in front of it, yet allows small objects or hands to pass through unobstructed. Thieves’ guilds and other unsavory sort absolutely love cloud glass, to the point that it is more commonly known as catspaw glass.

Notable schools include the Sol Forge in The Capital, Lonely Keep in the Stag Highlands and Harper’s Quarry in Port Tarrow.

Carological Alchemy

I hesitate to educate you all on this last field of alchemy but I believe knowledge, no matter how dark, must be shared lest we parish from ignorance. Strictly speaking, carological alchemy is forbidden unless under intense scrutiny. It is, essentially, alchemy of the flesh.

I daresay it’s obvious why such a field of study would have profound ethical implications. Those with pure intentions have explored this field to advance medical sciences. Using techniques like conjunction, they have attempted to reattach severed limbs, replace rotted flesh before it kills the host or graft elements in order to stop bleeding or speed healing.

However, many have been led by dark temptation to experiment on unwilling participants for their twisted curiosity. Most famously the alchemist Barron Crowly was discovered to have filled his atelier with amalgamated horrors so dark that I will not describe them here. It’s rumored that guards who witnessed his works were driven mad and rather than sort through what he had done, the local officials simply burned down his tower. After this incident, the council of colleges implemented an interdiction against the practice indefinitely.

Even with its official ban, that hasn’t stopped the news of reclusive alchemists apprehended amongst horrific creations to continue. Many ponder what would lead someone to create such abominations. I don’t think it is very complicated. The desire to play as the gods once did; curiously and without any remorse or sense of humanity. Dark indeed.

I hope one day that carological alchemy can return to the light. The potential to heal and care for the afflicted is great, if only we can master our inherent daemons.

There is only one school permitted to explore carological alchemy, the Royal Alchemy College of Old Stone.

In Closing

Well, I don’t want to end on such a dour note. Alchemy is a beautiful science. Out in the wild, amongst the lily grass and dawn flowers, there is a profound peace to be found to those who wander. Each thread of life shares an ancient connection, one that we alchemists have only begun to weave for the greater good. I encourage each of you here to venture out and discover your own peace.