Alchemist Rising

[Sumiyoshi]

Chapter One: Fireworks and Gladiators


It was the biggest fire in the history of Ratchet.

Not a small feat for a town primarily made up of goblins, a race about as notorious for its pyromania and general love for explosives as for its lust for all things monetary. So of course, there had been other fires, and all of them had lit up the night sky with their roaring orange glows in years past, just as this current inferno was in the process of doing. And during those fires of the olden days, those townspeople who weren’t close enough to be affected in some sort of way simply went about their lives- business as usual, and even more so if the fire originated from the University, home of Ratchet’s many volatile Alchemy majors.

It was later estimated that tonight’s fire, however, drew out an unprecedented number of spectators- approximately seventy-eight percent of Ratchet’s population was watching the inferno either through the windows in the safety of their homes, or from the more unobstructed vantage points found only in the middle of the city’s many bustling streets. And in the following years, goblins of all trades and income brackets, hired and hired-on-certain-conditions (colloquial Goblinese for ‘slave’) ogres, mercenary humans and orcs, and pretty much every member of every race represented in Ratchet alike would find themselves hard-pressed to forget the Great Fire of ’35.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t characterized by either a horrendously high body/ashes count or an all-enveloping radius-of-effect. On the contrary, the Great Fire of ’35 had absolutely no casualties, though it managed to incinerate everything within a ten-feet-by-ten-feet radius.

Most people remember it for two other reasons: it was a spiral of flame that shot up thirty stories high, and it spelled out the answers to Sunday’s homework assignment for Professor Gurglebeaker’s Advanced Potions and Concoctions class.

The fact that the student responsible had thoughtfully remembered to sign his homework made tracking him down a whole lot easier, though the school authorities had to scrape him off the side of the University’s clock tower, half a mile down the road.

* * *
“Kazz Wrenchermix?”

Headmistress Gearspinner adjusted her spectacles, peering down her long nose at the rather typical (though oddly blue-haired, likely due to one of many chemical mishaps down the road) goblin student seated in front of her. She didn’t respond to his nervous grin, instead choosing to focus her attention on the manila folder occupying the center of her desk.

A cursory scan of Kazz’s file confirmed that he was, indeed, majoring in General Alchemy, though Gearspinner could tell that much already by examining the encyclopedia of chemical burns displayed on the student’s battered old shirt. The bandages wrapped around various parts of his body, also quite typical among Alchemy majors, were also a dead giveaway. A rising senior, Kazz’s academic career was characterized by barely-passing grades, walking the fine line between the lower end of mediocrity and outright failure. Luckily for him, this massive fire-homework-thing was his first (and if he wished to graduate at all, it would be his last)… incident, otherwise Kazz would be in deep disciplinary trouble.

Well, he would be in deeper trouble, at least. “Mr. Wrenchermix, do you know how much your little stunt has cost the school?” Headmistress Gearspinner asked, the combination of her displeased voice and disapproving stare lowering the office’s temperature below the freezing point.

Neither of these really seemed to faze Kazz, who was too busy counting on his fingers and running calculations through his head to take note of the Headmistress’s mood. “Well, there’s the workshop, filled with soot, which would incur costs of cleaning and possibly replacement of equipment, and then there’s the cost of replacing the roof- thankfully, the workshop is- or was- located on the first and only floor of the University’s science wing…“

Spoken like a true goblin, Gearspinner thought, resisting the urge to slap a hand to her forehead. Not that I can really say anything, of course. “I don’t mean monetarily, young Wrenchermix. You’ve single-handedly managed to put the University onto the front pages of every newspaper running in Ratchet, and no less than three generations of the citizens living here will remember this incident for years to come- they’re already calling this the Great Fire of ’35, did you know that?- and automatically associate it with this University… and its goblin population. We’re famous for all the wrong reasons now, and this does not help clear the many, many pyromania-related stereotypes associated with our noble race, let alone this nation crafted by goblin hands!”

The Headmistress didn’t recall getting up and looming over little Kazz, but at the end of her tirade, she found herself glaring straight into the younger goblin’s shell-shocked golden eyes from a grand total of three centimeters away. Gearspinner sat back down, clearing her throat and then recomposed herself with visible effort. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Wrenchermix?” she said curtly.

Kazz resumed his breathing functions. “Well, you see, it was a really… I mean, I’d just finished our homework, which had to do with the funky napalm-like brew that we were talking about in yesterday’s Concoctions class, and I was in the process of mixin’ up a usable sample of the stuff to present the next day. But at that point...!” The goblin held up a finger, his eyes beginning to light up. “I was thinking about those newfangled magic fireworks that I saw at the last summer festival, and it got me thinking about how to reproduce those things on my own, so I decided to try and use the Stirswirler-Bobblesinker Principle in conjunction with Roundvial’s sixteenth formula, with a pinch of the Peacebloom solvent to counteract Proudmoore’s Uncertainty Principle in the magical creation of otherwise normal napalm-“

“Spare me the technical details, young Wrenchermix,” Gearspinner interrupted, massaging her forehead. “Why did you create a thirty-foot high spiral of flame last night?”

“Wow, really? Thirty feet? According to my calculations, it should only have hit a maximum height of-“

“Answer the question, Wrenchermix.”

“Yes’m. Er… well, I got a little excited and became so wrapped up in formulating a new formula and experimenting with it that I forgot that I was actually in the process of creating a fireworks display, ma’am.”

After a moment of expectant silence, Headmistress Gearspinner cautiously raised an incredulous eyebrow. “That’s it? And the fact that it spelled out your homework?”

“I, er, got really excited and accidentally loaded it into the firework’s loading bay. Stirswirler-Bobblesinker’s Principle took care of the rest.”

Kazz squirmed under Headmistress Gearspinner’s even more incredulous stare. “Er, say, this isn’t going on my permanent record, is it?” he asked, looking around the small office.

* * *

[Sumiyoshi]

One hour later, Kazz sat in Professor Gurglebeaker’s Concoctions class, as per usual for a Monday afternoon. Unlike most such Mondays, however, the young goblin wasn’t sitting at rapt or semi-rapt attention, instead staring down at his desk with a nightmarish mixture of shock, disbelief, and unadulterated horror coursing through his veins.

As a result, Kazz listened to the old goblin professor’s droning with only half of his mind. The other half was busy wondering what possessed him to make that deal with Headmistress Gearspinner.

“Quite frankly, young Wrenchermix, if your current academic standing is anything to go by, such a mark on your permanent record will be a death sentence to whatever future prospects you might have- no employer in their right minds would want to have a budding pyromaniac on their hands, especially with grades as bad as these,” Gearspinner said, the gravity of the situation weighing down her words. “Why, you might as well be flunked straight out of the University-“

Three minutes and one administration of smelling salts later, Gearspinner kept talking to Kazz. “… as I was saying, you might as well be flunked out of the University were it not for the comments your teachers tacked on to your grades.” The older goblin shuffled through some papers, rapidly scanning them with eyes trained by long years of experience. “Most of them seem to be variations of the same theme, so I’ll keep it short- your teachers generally lamented the fact that you received such horrible grades, despite the fact that you obviously knew what you were doing and expressed an amazingly high amount of interest in what they taught. All of them called you an unusually intelligent and sharp goblin alchemist, if they ever saw one- though your equally unusually short attention span and inability to focus crippled you.

“In light of these comments, I might be willing to let this grave incident slide off your permanent record.” Headmistress Gearspinner pressed forward, overriding whatever comments Kazz attempted to make. “However, you must meet certain… conditions for this to happen, young Wrenchermix.”

“I… I’ll do anything, ma’am! I’ll-“

“Achieve the highest grade in all but one of your classes.”

Two minutes and another batch of smelling salts later, Kazz was awake and once again able to form coherent and/or semi-coherent sentences. “You want me to… what?!”

“It’s rather simple, young Wrenchermix. I want you to prove to me that your problem is merely one of attention and focus, and not a lack of brains. I want you to prove to me that your intellect is as worthy of praise as your teachers seem to think it is. Then, and only then, will I take this off your permanent record.”

That said, Headmistress Gearspinner rested her elbows on her desk and steepled her fingers, waiting for Kazz’s inevitable question.

It came after ten seconds of contemplative silence. “That one class… it’s Concoctions, right?” Kazz asked, his expression unreadable.

“Correct. As you well know, to actually pass the class is a challenge in itself, as seventy percent of the students outright fail it each year. The only grade given in that class is the highly difficult final project, which determines the grade for the entire course-“

“Would you take the incident off my record if I got the highest grade in just one class?”

At the time, it seemed like a good idea to Kazz. No, it wasn’t just a good idea- it seemed like the only feasible possibility, given that he would’ve had to achieve something like a 2,000% (something like an A-quintuple-plus-times-infinity) on most of his final tests in order to be the highest grade in most of his classes. That the University was already entering the last few weeks of the semester made this feat even more impossible. Understandably, desperation made Kazz seek any sort of alternative…

Headmistress Gearspinner closed her eyes and sighed. “Bargaining like a true goblin, I see. However, young Wrenchermix, where do you think you are right now?”

Kazz wilted miserably, and began counting off the possible answers. “… Er, I know, I'm currently in the office of this esteemed University’s Headmistress, not in some sort of free-for-all goblin flea market-“

“Wrong, young Wrenchermix,” The goblin matron interrupted, her eyes glittering in amusement. “You are, I believe, in the office of another goblin. Now, which class do you have in mind?”

… But that Headmistress Gearspinner had actually accepted his own deal was startling, to say the least. So now, all Kazz would have to do to get the highest grade in Concoctions would be to ace the final project. Easy, right?

If I lit a stick of dynamite and ate it, how fast would I die? Kazz thought, sliding forward in his seat to slam his face down onto his desk. The final project for Professor Gurglebeaker’s Advanced Potions and Concoctions class, while quite freeform and open to new ideas, was infamous for its assumed complexity, its difficulty, its inherent instability and uncertainty…

“… and I know it’s, mmm, a little early, but it seems that we’ve finished this course a few days earlier than I originally expected, so I’ll, mmm, start explaining the final project and what I expect out of it…”

And Professor Gurglebeaker was in the process of explaining it right now, which prompted Kazz to sit up straight and hang on to the older goblin’s every word like they were flotation devices being thrown into stormy seas.

After taking a few moments to squint suspiciously at his suddenly attentive students with rheumy eyes, Professor Gurglebeaker nodded in satisfaction and continued speaking, once again starting his habitual pacing in front of the blackboard. “Now as you all know, this final project is, mmm, left up to the student to decide what to do with. Most of you, at least, must create a concoction of some sort, obviously- any sort, actually, as long as it ties into what we have, mmm, learned this year.”

Kazz nearly leapt out of his seat when he realized that the professor seemed to be staring right at him as the old goblin continued speaking. “As for those of you who happen to be Alchemy majors, however…” Gurglebeaker cleared his throat. “Well, thanks to a tradition started by the first true Alchemist, as you all very well know, your final project will be a little, mmm, different from everyone else’s. You will, mmm, have to acquire a subject to test your concoction out on.”

Gurglebeaker’s characteristically heavy tread echoed off the walls of the classroom as the professor continued pacing. Clomp, clomp, clomp… “And as to the test subject… well, mmm, I know that most of those younger teachers of this class are being rather lenient with the creatures that can be used. However, I, mmm, think that’s a load of baloney.” Professor Gurglebeaker’s gaze shot up to scan the classroom, his scowl adding wrinkles to his already prune-like face. “In my class, all of you must use ogres as your test subjects. If not, you will, mmm, fail. It’s just not right otherwise, y’see. Tradition, and all that.

“Now then, class is, mmm, dismissed. I’ll see you all in a few weeks.” A pause. “Well, I’ll see those of you who decide not to run away, at least.”

Nervous laughter rippled among the assembled students, who knew very well that Professor Gurglebeaker was only half kidding, if at all.

* * *

---
Well, here we go- first segment of the first chapter of a new story! ... it's really been a while. :lol: Anyway, this here's the dictionary definition of a slow start, indeed- the end result isn't going to be quite as manic (or as humorous, likely) as Odd Bedfellows, but hey, it's something different for a change, and this idea's been bouncing around my head for a while.

In any case, I hope y'all enjoy it. More will be forthcoming, once I get more of the chapter hammered out in advance.

[Inquisistor7]

This is a great day for the FFF! Sumi has at last returned! Now, as for what you have posted, I find it quite enjoyable and look forward to more. Things are looking up around here, oh yes.

Oh, and before I collapse into joyful convulsions of glee, let me ask you but one question: when will Odd Bedfellows be posted again? (I know you get asked this in almost every thread you enter, but I feel compelled to ask)

[Rowan Seven]

Heh, very amusing so far. You seem to have a knack for writing goblins, Sumiyoshi. Any chance the goblin triplets will make a cameo? Regardless, this story looks quite promising. If I'm deducing the contextual clues correctly (well, that and the title), it appears that you're describing the origins and birth of a goblin alchemist hero/mercenary. Kazz Wrenchermix, although currently lacking the French accent, looks like he might fit such a role nicely. The way you've written him, he has a captivating combination of sheer intelligence, determination, and volatility. His current uncertainty and worry endow him with an appropriate feeling of youthfulness. The other goblins that have made appearances come across as quite...goblinesque (Is that even a word?) and benefit enormously from your creative wit. An excellent job so far, Sumiyoshi, and I wish you luck with the rest.

By the way, are you and/or Rabite playing "World of Warcraft" by any chance? If so, would you be willing to reveal your race, class, and server?

[Flak]

Hmm...how to best describe what I read...ah yes, that's the adjective. Sumiyoshi.

I love your work! :bigclap:

[Sumiyoshi]

This is a great day for the FFF! Sumi has at last returned! Now, as for what you have posted, I find it quite enjoyable and look forward to more. Things are looking up around here, oh yes.

Oh, and before I collapse into joyful convulsions of glee, let me ask you but one question: when will Odd Bedfellows be posted again? (I know you get asked this in almost every thread you enter, but I feel compelled to ask)

Glad you enjoy it! :y-thumbsu As to when OB will be back up... well, quite frankly, I have no idea. It's getting more and more difficult to get back to writing it, especially considering that I hadn't actually planned on it getting as big as it did character-and-plotwise...


Heh, very amusing so far. You seem to have a knack for writing goblins, Sumiyoshi. Any chance the goblin triplets will make a cameo? Regardless, this story looks quite promising. If I'm deducing the contextual clues correctly (well, that and the title), it appears that you're describing the origins and birth of a goblin alchemist hero/mercenary. Kazz Wrenchermix, although currently lacking the French accent, looks like he might fit such a role nicely. The way you've written him, he has a captivating combination of sheer intelligence, determination, and volatility. His current uncertainty and worry endow him with an appropriate feeling of youthfulness. The other goblins that have made appearances come across as quite...goblinesque (Is that even a word?) and benefit enormously from your creative wit. An excellent job so far, Sumiyoshi, and I wish you luck with the rest.

By the way, are you and/or Rabite playing "World of Warcraft" by any chance? If so, would you be willing to reveal your race, class, and server?

ROWAN! :bigclap: Thanks for your comments- just reading them kicks me back up onto my literary feet.

You've pretty much hit the nail on the head- though Kazz getting a French accent isn't planned, sadly. I just can't see Kazz having one. :lol: And I'm not quite sure why goblins mesh with me like this... well, aside from them being my favorite race in the Warcraft universe, that is. I'd like to think that I'm not goblinesque in real life...

And sadly, WoW's too rich for my blood, time and money-wise. Great game- I played in both open betas. If I were to play, I'd probably gank a Dwarf Hunter by the name of Sumiyoshi and run around sleeping on Ironforge's subway benches, all while wearing those awesome patched hobo-style pants...


Hmm...how to best describe what I read...ah yes, that's the adjective. Sumiyoshi.

I love your work! :bigclap:

Sumiyoshi's an adjective? :y-candle: Well, glad you're enjoying this!


And now, for the update... which will be in the next post, thanks to that wonderful text limit.

[Sumiyoshi]

Kazz shuffled down the cobblestone road, shouldering both his book bag and the impossible task looming ahead of him. Shops that normally triggered his rampant sense of curiosity and his natural love for haggling were passed by, food stalls that emanated the most mouthwatering of scents weren’t even looked at, and even the sight of Old Troll Bou’jin using his dark voodoo to drastically alter the digestive rhythms of a pair of would-be bandits couldn’t do more than bring a wan grin to Kazz’s face.

Naturally, the young goblin’s mind was filled with thoughts of regret as he walked along- wallowing in self-pity, of course, tended to be much easier than trying to contemplate the certain death that accompanied his immediate future. Why couldn’t he have just done his homework? Or studied for tests, at least? He had never been not capable of understanding the material- the very concept of alchemy had always held Kazz’s interest, ever since he was first capable of holding a test tube (or at least, a twirling multi-function chemical discombobulator) in his grubby little hands- but even enthusiasm and interest couldn’t make up for a sheer lack of studying.

Kazz scratched his head furiously, barely managing to keep down the aaaAAARGH of frustration welling up within his breast. If he’d known that it would come down to this, he wouldn’t have spent those entire two weeks poking at the holes contained within Moonblaster’s Dubious Principle of Combobulation, or examining the many fallacies contained within his Transmutation class’s textbooks!

Though come to think of it, pointing out the latter in class had at least gotten him enough extra credit to scrape through Advanced Transmutation (Metals). That no one else had noticed the many problems contained within the Gold ‘n Glory textbook’s many side formulas had always made him curious, to say the least- the completely unfounded idea that emerald was not suited for transmutation into gold was ridiculous, and flew against Metalside’s first rule of Alchemy-

Kazz paused in both the mental and physical realms. Where was he again? Ah, right- wallowing in self-pity and general angst. Oh, the humanity. Oh, the depression. Oh, the-

“Hey, you! Yeah, you, the angsting midget over there! CATCH!”

-chaotic and rather embarrassing fumbling for two fluttering slips of paper suddenly thrown his way. By some dint of luck, Kazz just barely managed to catch them before they drifted into an errant patch of mud, and he straightened back up just in time to come face-to-stomach with one of the most erratic students in the history of the University.

Baggy, oft-patched pants, a battered jacket and a crop top that leaves her stomach and shoulders bare (the less clothing worn, the less one needs to worry about ruining clothes with oil, no?), goblin-style flight goggles, a fully-working mechanical backpack filled with more moving parts than a zeppelin (and probably scavenged from one, too), and a sloppy hairstyle- these are all the marks of a healthily unstable goblin engineer.

Of course, the fact that these were all being worn on a human girl made this combination quite bizarre, especially in the eyes of a society weaned on the idea that all members of the female gender are meant to be scantily-clad archers, scantily-clad sorceresses/priestesses, demure housewives, or all of the above. But regardless of how much many people tried to deny the fact that she existed, Riza Leoric kept on trucking nonetheless.

She placed her gloved hands on her hips and grinned down at the much shorter goblin, showing all of her teeth (minus the one which had been knocked out after a losing battle with the first- and as of yet, last- trash-powered engine in the history of Kalimdor). “Ta-da! Two tickets to the gladiatorial battle being held in exactly one hour, in that arena down in Generator Square! Courtesy of Lady Luck and a contest held by Professor Hydroplane, of course. I figure something like this’ll definitely turn that frown of yours upside-down!”

Kazz favored Riza with a half-confused, half-listless stare usually reserved for use by hardened death row inmates confronted by circus clowns trying to cheer them up on the night of their execution. “Riza. Can’t go. Got research to do,” the goblin muttered, desperately looking around the taller human’s legs for an escape route of some sort. Sadly, none presented themselves.

“Aw, c’mon, Kazz. What’s all this talk about homework about, now? Classes are almost over, and most of them are doing their finals earlier than usual this semester! You should be rejoicing!” Riza insisted- and then she paused, pushing her goggles up to her forehead and furrowing her brow. “Unless…” She leaned down and seriously examined Kazz’s greener-than-usual face. “Alright, Kazz, what’s got you down? Whatever it is, it’s gotta be big."

The alchemy major attempted to avoid the girl’s worried green eyes, but then gave up with a resigned sigh after remembering that he had never once succeeded in hiding anything from Riza. That they were childhood friends didn’t particularly help much in this respect, either. “Alright- did you see the giant fire that happened yesterday?”

Riza hmm’d, putting a finger to her chin. “Nope, can’t say I did,” she said after a moment of thought. “I was putting the finishing touches on RX-78 last night, so I was stuck inside the University’s Engineering workshop. I heard of it, though- thirty-foot sheet of flame that spelled out someone’s homewor- wait that was YOU?” she suddenly exclaimed, surprised enough to forgo commas.

Kazz nodded helplessly, his ears twitching in pain from the volume of Riza’s outburst. “Yeah. I got a little… carried away. Got a bit too interested in mixing up a few magic fireworks,” he said. “But thanks to a small deal I made with old Gearspinner, I’m not sunk quite yet… but if I don’t get the highest grade in Concoctions, I’ll sink faster than darmstadtium taking a swim in shark-infested waters. So, uh, in other words, I’m doomed and I gotta go research stuff right away, so GACK.”

In a burst of steam, a massive mechanical claw easily lifted Kazz a good three feet into the air and brought him level with Riza’s determined face. “Not so fast, Kazz! I know you better than the back of my hand, and when you’re this deep into your funk, I can’t let you go off and do something stupid like eat a stick of dynamite or something!” As Riza continued speaking, a second mechanical appendage, a crab-like pincer, darted out and swiftly caught the tickets fluttering out of Kazz’s stunned hands.

“… But… but… Riza, don’t you have finals or something? Anything?!” squeaked the goblin, squirming to get free of the robo-claw’s grip on the back of his shirt.

“You’re looking at one of them!” Riza said proudly, jerking a thumb at her steam-belching mechanical backpack. “This wonderful device, complete with a fully-functional and easy-to-manipulate three-fingered claw, was made for Professor Hydroplane's class, and RX-78 was for Professor Screwblaster’s Contraptions class, because both of them were kind enough to hold their finals early! Now let’s go get those troubles outta your mind!” With that, the human girl ducked into a nearby alleyway and began jogging down the cobblestone road, her goblin friend dangling along behind/above/next to her (in rapid succession). “I’ll help you cheer up even if it kills me!”

Kazz’s final, and somewhat faint, wail echoed off the alley’s walls. “But what if it kills me?!”

* * *

[Sumiyoshi]

The sunlight dazzled his eyes.

It always did, at about this time of day. The small barred window was angled just so, and when it was time, the sun would shine right into his eyes, if he lay his back across his bedding.

He didn’t mind the brightness. In fact, he rather enjoyed it, and made it a point to catch the sunlight like this whenever possible. Because if he closed his eyes…

The door rattled, and then opened, accompanied by a fascinating cacophony of creaks and groans that spoke of hinges in desperate need of a little oil. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that it was the fat goblin again- everyone opened the door in a slightly different, slightly unique way. The fat goblin was always impatient, and would hastily try and get the door open as fast as possible, regardless of how much noise it would be certain to make.

“Soooo. How’s my favorite bundle of joy today, eh?”

Forced cheerfulness. He almost smirked at that wavering note in the fat goblin’s voice, but settled instead for an expressionless, wordless response.

“C’mon, you, I know you’re awake. Stop pretending.” A kick emphasized that last word- not that it hurt or actually bugged him at all. Goblins aren’t known for their strength. Regardless, he pretended to wince in pain, and let out a slow groan for dramatic effect before sitting up and opening his eyes. Might as well keep the fat goblin feeling like he’s in charge- it makes for complacency and unfounded confidence.

He was surprised, however. Instead of sneering and acting all high and mighty as per usual, the fat goblin was rubbing his hands together and perspiring nervously. “Er… you feeling alright today? No injuries? No bruises? Top condition, right? Right?”

He answered in the negative, too perplexed to even try and conceal his surprise.

“Good, good. After last night, I’m… there’s a lot riding on you, you hear? Alright? Now look sharp. There’s a lot riding on… well, just do as well as you usually do, and there’ll be nothing to worry about…” With that, the fat goblin left hastily, slamming the door louder than was probably intended- as usual, of course.

He sat back onto the hay and laid himself back down, mulling this new development over. So it turned out that the fat goblin was a much bigger risk-taker than he’d initially expected... honestly, he should have expected the pressure to become greater after last night, so this should not have surprised him.

He went back to closing his eyes and savoring the sun beating against his eyelids. The sunlight warmed him, and if he closed his eyes, he’d imagine that he was lying on a grassy hilltop, free from the confines of this cell.

He savored this sensation because the next time the sunlight would be beating down on his skin, he would be too busy fighting for his life to really appreciate it…

* * *

[Inquisistor7]

High quality, very high quality. Your style is just so inventive and entertaining...it is amazing.