The town of Wuste, on the outskirts of the Crimson Waste
“…so that’s when I decided I had to get out of there. The school had closed down and I couldn’t find hide nor hair of the professor or any of her students. Though I’m not sure I’d have had the confidence to approach them even if I did find them, ha. AND I’d talked to everyone even remotely interesting in town. Those that’d talk to me in return anyways. So the question before me was, ‘where to now?’. Well, lightning struck twice, so to speak. Beneath the same sewer grate where I spied on the professor’s class, I found this!”
Amscray holds up a small stoppered vial, the bar’s dim light glinting off the slightly translucent green/grey ring that bounces lightly within as he produces it. He gazes at it lovingly, turning the vial slowly so that the ring inside rolls around its perimeter, and addresses his companion at the bar without looking away.
“Do you know what this is?” He asks. He waits only a moment before answering his own question.
“Trinitite. That’s its name, but what is it really? Stone? Metal? Ceramic? Glass, even? No one I’ve talked to can tell me, but it has properties of all of those things. It has a mix of repeating structures with some impurities like a gem, is barely scratched by a hardened steel chisel, is as hard and light as fine clay but has none of the brittleness, and retains magic better than any raw material I’ve ever seen. And this banding, right here? That is the most exciting part. Because that means it is malleable- it can be worked and shaped to whatever we want. Someone made this Trinitite ring.”
Amscray is smiling almost hungrily now. “But the forge cleric I talked to in the city, who told me its name? He told me a secret. He said his order has tried to reforge it- and they couldn’t get it hot enough. He said there’s a whole team devoted to trying to figure out how to do that, and they can’t. But somebody has. And from what I’ve been able to find out? Well, this stuff doesn’t corrode so it is hard to know how old it is, but some of the places its been found are old. Real old.”
Amscray pauses, sighs, and replaces the Trinitite in the bag that hangs at his side. He finishes off the last of his drink with apparent satisfaction and motions to the bartender for another drink for both him and his neighbor.
“And then…. bupkis. Nothing! I’ve been chasing my tail trying to find out where this stuff came from, but it’s all amounted to nothing. Until that old man yesterday, talking about the old wonders of the people of the desert, about panes of ‘green glass’ buried in the dunes, uncovered by sandstorms. And honestly, there’s enough stories like that around here that, well, I’m headed out there tomorrow. Into the deep desert. Cause if I find out where this stuff comes from, about how it was created… oh, the things I could make. The things we all could make. It’d change the world, it’d change everything!… I know, I know, you think I’m being too hasty, that I should prepare more- but the druid on the outskirts of town said the wind is going to change soon, so if I’m going it’s gotta be tomorrow, and you know I’m not some-“
“He’s asleep. Last round.” The bartender sets down a fresh cup in front of Amscray.
“What?”
“This is the last round of drinks, I’m closing up in five. And Tim’s asleep. Has been.”
Amscray looks at his conversation partner at the bar. Indeed, “Tim” appears to be softly snoring, his head resting heavily on his arms at the bar, the previous pint still untouched in front of him.
“Oh.”
A nearby table, the last in the bar that is fully occupied, erupts in cheers, groans, laughter, and cursing. Amscray looks at them, slightly startled by the sudden cacophony.
“They seem a little rowdy. Are you sure they’ll leave when you tell them?”
The bartender hums in the affirmative. “Hm, I’ll make ’em leave. Have before. They had a bet going on how long it’d take you to realize you was talking to yourself.” The people at the table exchange money; a woman with a shiteating grin counts the coins piled before her.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I lost my wager half an hour ago. Never thought you’d keep it up to closing time”
Amscray offers the occupants of the table a little wave and what he thinks of as his polite smile. He gets a few rejuvenated laughs and several scoffs in return. He isn’t sure what to make of that, but no one is cursing anymore so he thinks that was a good sign. He turns back to his cup with a smile and raises it for a long drink. The bartender is still there, regarding him critically when he sets it down again.
“You’re a strange one.” he says earnestly.
Amscray smiles. “Thanks!” he replies, just as earnestly. The bartender’s eyes narrow further.
“Tab’s two silver.”
Amscray nods and sets the two coins on the table. “Sure thing! That’s a little higher than other places I’ve been, but then again the room that druid is letting me use is cheap and I have to admit-“
“Each.”
“…Beg your pardon?”
The bartender jerks his thumb at the sleeping man, but keeps his eyes on Amscray. “Tim’s a drunk, I know he ain’t got the coin. He told me you were buying. Two silver for each of ya.”
“Oh! Of course! Sure, I’ll spot my buddy Tim.” Amscray good-naturedly adds two more silver to the two already on the bar. A good portion of his worldly wealth. He finishes his drink and sets the cup down with a contented sigh and a satisfied smile. “Well, thank you for the milk, barkeep, and thank you for the conversation, Tim! Good luck with your narcolepsy!” Amscray hops off the stool, dropping nearly his own height through the air before he touches ground. “And goodbye to you too, gambling folk!” he says with a wave to the table, “good luck with your- um- luck!” He finishes, awkwardly. With that, the small gray Kobold walks to the door and takes his leave. The last remaining occupants of the tavern watch the door swing shut behind him, before they see him again through the window, sitting astride a large mechanical beetle that casually saunters off down the road to the edge of town.
Tim, the drunk, sits up swaying, and hiccups.
“Hic! He’s a strange one.”