Construction Mage - Chapter 66: Kiln & Oven

AN: Hey, I wanted to apologize to everyone for the delay/slow release this past week. One or two bad days are having a snowballing effect, but I'm getting it together. Thank you for being patient with me.

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“I can ‌make this toilet of yours, no problem, but the pipes you’re talking about are a different matter. For that sort of length, you’d need to join different pieces together. It won’t be easy ensuring the connection is watertight,” Jorren, the newly hired potter, stated with a frown as he glanced at the drawings on the ground. “We can use animal fat, wax, or oakum to seal it, but it would require quite a bit of maintenance. That stuff softens with heat and hardens in the cold. I’d say you would have to replace it every few months, which would become quite the burden if you run this pipe over a long distance.”

“We can use ooze membrane for now. I’ll see if I can find some more or alternatives from the dungeon,” Clay replied.

“In that case, I can start working as soon as I have a workshop to work with. I’ll need some help from Bren for that.”

Clay sighed as he thought of how much work was required to build a pottery workshop. Not only were there numerous tools to purchase, but the actual workshop itself and the crucial kiln all were not easy to construct. None of it was something he could do in a matter of days.

“We’ll get there eventually. For now, I’ll work something out with one of the existing workshops. If anything, I doubt they work during the night. I’ll provide light crystals, but I’ll have to trouble you with working into the night, though.”

“If it means I can finally get to pursue my craft again, that’s a small price to pay.”

Clay then turned to Bren.

“So once we complete the oven, you’ll get to work with Jorren on the kiln. Do either of you have any questions?”

The two men exchanged glances but said nothing. They each knew what their task was and were eager to get started. After all, they had both endured long enough as disposable laborers and longed to return to their true professions.

***

Sylphira’s life had grown lively enough in recent days, but today promised to outdo them all. For the first time in months, she invited not only her entire party to her estate, but also her closest friends as well. 

There was a reason why she seldom invited guests over, and it wasn’t due to a desire for isolation. Her circle wasn’t that varied, consisting mostly of Delvers. As a result, she avoided subjecting them to the pomp of nobility that every visit entailed.

“Welcome, Dorgan and Faris! I see that you managed to bring Roylan along while the sun is still up. Impressive.”

“Were we the last ones here?” the pink-haired woman known as Faris asked as she nonchalantly dragged a roguish man by the collar behind her.

The man’s shoulder-length hair was deep blue and was wavy like a tide. It might also have had something to do with how listless he was—more like a shriveling corpse than a decent human being.

“No. I invited Talla’s and Calyra’s parties.”

“I’m guessing that means Talla is late as usual?”

Sylphira simply smiled, and that was enough to convey her meaning.

“Water—I need water!” a coarse voice croaked, drawing the two women’s gaze to the blue-haired man.

“How this man is supposedly our leader is beyond me. What is wrong with us?” Sylphira said as she shook her head.

“Now, now. Roylan at least showed up today,” Dorgan placated. “Let due honour be given where it is deserved.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Sylphira nodded to her attendants in the background, giving them the go-ahead to oblige her companion’s request. She then turned around and led her party into the main hall, where half a dozen Delvers were waiting. There were a total of five women and one man among them.

“Pardon my absence. It seems my companions have arrived,” the lady of the house said.

“Oh, if it isn’t Roylan,” a petite woman, who seemed to be the leader of the group, muttered in surprise before turning to a man in a fine tunic beside her. “It seems your leader, Talla, is even more tardy than this no-good fellow here. Nevertheless, he is more of a welcome sight than base filth like you.”

“To say such a thing with such a disgusted expression. You hurt me, my lady,” the man replied with a resplendent smile playing upon his lips that belied his words. “Still, it amazes me to no end that your beauty remains just as mesmerizing no matter what expression you wear.”

As he spoke, he leaned closer to the blonde of small stature who sported a long ponytail, causing her to back away in annoyance. 

“Fuck off. None of your sweet, flowery words will work against me or any of my party members. Save your breath for explaining yourself to Talla.”

Before the argument wandered too far, Sylphira clapped her hands together, drawing her guests’ attention.

“Let’s leave it at that, shall we? Talla and the rest of her party likely won’t come until noon, so why don’t we go take a peek at what I wanted to show you guys first before lunch?”

“Great idea!” Dorgan’s booming voice blurted. “Even I haven’t seen how it turned it since the last time I came here with Clay. I can’t wait to see what Odrik has created! Let us go right this instant!”

The group was either unable or unwilling to say otherwise, so they promptly got on their way. Under their host’s guidance, they climbed the stairs to the second floor and arrived before a small door next to a window. Sylphira slowly opened the door, allowing it to creak, drawing out the tension.

“Just so you guys know, this toilet is completely new and hasn’t been used yet. Our craftsmen had only finished installing it the day before.”

“No need for any disclaimers,” Calyra retorted. “Rumors have been going on within the noble circle about the prince’s new toy. Everyone already knows that this toilet is some type of indoor privy. The fact that we accepted your invitation meant we’re prepared. We’re here to see why such base matters would draw your interest so much.”

Sylphira shrugged and fully opened the door, revealing a modest room by noble standards, where a lone seat lay. Naturally, it was the toilet. The only other things in the room were a small box container nailed to the wall and a strange basin below it that was held up by a metal shaft. Upon closer inspection, the group realized the basin had a hole at the center of it for some reason.

“What’s this? Is that part of the toilet?” Calyra asked as she drew closer, scrutinizing every inch of what lay before her.

“It’s for washing your hands,” Sylphira answered.

“The water heater? This looks nothing like it,” Dorgan commented.

“The original could be a source of drinking water or for washing oneself. My head attendant, Avel, said such things are beneath nobles, as attendants are enough to address those issues. As a result, Odrik and Clay ended up coming with this.”

Sylphira then activated the water crystals embedded in the box, and water began to flow out. She turned back and basked in her guests’ attentive gaze, but frowned when she noticed Roylan was barely able to keep his eyes open.

She exchanged a meaningful look with Faris, who was still supporting the blue-haired man. Their years of fighting together had built a solid rapport where they could often understand each other’s intentions without words.

Without warning, the pink-haired ranger threw Roylan forward and pressed his head into the basin. The water mercilessly continued to pour down on him, soaking his hair. It instantly jolted him from his lethargic state as he struggled to break free from Faris’s hold. Unfortunately for him, it only made it worse for himself. The more he turned around, the more water hit his face.

Sylphira’s water dispenser was completely different from Clay’s water heater. As an affluent noble, she wouldn’t settle for just one or two measly water crystals. She had access to something much stronger, which meant the flow wasn’t weak.

Roylan’s struggle only made it harder for him to breathe or see. Eventually, he gave up and simply lay there with his cheek pressed against the basin, no longer caring, as he was already drenched.

“Ahem,” the lady of the house cleared her throat once the spectacle calmed down. “Moving on, this is the toilet in the rumors. It works by…”

*** 

“That’s the last of the clay we have on hand,” Clay commented as he instructed his elemental to pick up another large stone slab.

“That will do for today, but we’ll need another batch for tomorrow. More straw, too,” Jorren answered.

The two of them had been working on a kiln over the past week. Every day, they would get to it after Clay returned from the dungeon, where Jorren would then head to one of the pottery workshops when the sun began to set. It wasn’t hard to find a place that would rent out its facilities during the nighttime.

As a result of their labor, they managed to almost finish the kiln in a week. 

“Hmm, I’ll go place the order in the morning, but I won’t be here for most of the afternoon tomorrow. Do you think you can finish it without me?”

“You mean without your rock golem? It won’t be easy, but I can make do.”

“Well, let me get you some food as compensation. It should be done soon.”

The craftsman scoffed at him, but Clay had gotten along well enough with the man over the past week that he meant well. He might not bother with pleasantries and had rough mannerisms, but he was a genuine and hardworking man.

He retreated to his house, located right next door. 

The kiln had been built on the plot of land assigned to the guild, and he had the foresight to select the lots that were right next to each other. His little workshop sat right on the cusp between the residential and commercial zones.

As soon as Clay opened the door to his place, a tantalizing smell hit his nose, laced with a hint of smokiness—a sign that the kitchen wasn’t properly ventilated. It was a result of the choice of roofing. While smoke could pass through the thatch with no issue, there was a limit to it. Some of the smoke would still cling on, causing the lingering smell to remain.

While it wasn’t perfect, Clay was satisfied to know that the first test run of the oven was a success. At the very least, it was functional.

Opening up the oven door, he stuck the baker’s peel inside to retrieve the contents. Soon, the strong aroma of cheese spread around the room as Clay pulled out a pizza. It was topped generously with meat and vegetables. An expense he deemed necessary, especially with all the money he had lying around recently.

With no protein shakes and the like available here, he had to splurge if he wanted to meet his protein goals. There was also the daily fiber intake his family doctor had always nagged him about. A grown man needed around thirty-eight grams of fiber a day, which wasn’t easy. It didn’t help that there was no nutrition information available in this world. The only thing relatively easier to keep track of was calories, and that’s only because of his years of experience.

Shaking those idle thoughts out of his mind, he carefully carved out a slice with a kitchen knife and picked it up. He found the texture to be more like a flatbread than a crispy pizza.

Hmm, it’s a lot denser, as expected. I’ll need to experiment with this flour since white flour likely isn’t available to anyone but the nobility. Maybe add more water to the dough? Not only that, I think the lack of crispiness is because the oven isn’t hot enough. 

I knew it was sus that we had to extinguish the fire and let the residual heat cook it. I swear the ovens in the pizzerias had a live fire burning inside. But Bren and Dorren should know what they’re doing when it comes to ovens.

Taking a deep breath at his lack of knowledge, he couldn’t help but break out into a cough as the smokiness in the air assaulted his lungs. While uncomfortable, it lit up the light bulb in his mind at the same time.

That’s right. This oven lacks a smokestack!

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