Construction Mage - Chapter 62: Priorities

Another extra chapter!

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“...Enough about my techniques and my legacy. I doubt the conditions will be the same by the time I join the goddess.

The material situation in a post-Descent world is perhaps both the worst and best time for a craftsman to live in. A stable supply of even the most mundane materials became a foreign concept, while new materials were being discovered every week. If only those Delvers would divert some of their efforts toward transportation between cities, a lot of my problems could be solved! 

To whoever reads this in the future, I hope my woes will be nothing more than a thing of the past.”

-Scribbling from the notes of a disgruntled craftsman

***

A few silent moments passed as Odrik studied Clay’s sketches with a furrowed brow. Everyone around him patiently waited until he broke the silence.

“Hmm, implementing this ‌won’t be easy. If you want these pipes to be water-sealed, it means they should be made of rust-resistant metals. Unfortunately, that means it won’t be cheap. It would require either metals from the deeper layers of the dungeon or copper, which only Stormhaven has a reliable source of. If it’s just from the second floor down to the first, the cost is still acceptable, but it will take a fair bit of time and hammering. I’d say it’ll take about a week if  we worked on nothing else.”

“Are there no alternatives?” Sylphira asked.

“Not with metalworking, my lady. I would suggest exploring other materials like wood. I’ve seen some brilliant utilization of hollowed-out logs. Otherwise, stone or glazed pottery would work as well. You’ll have to ask craftsmen in those areas for the specifics, though.”

“I see. Thank you for your input, Odrik,” the master of the house said before turning to Clay. “So, what do you think?”

Being put on the spot, Clay didn’t rush to answer. He was the one who had suggested using metal pipes, so he couldn’t refute his own idea right away. However, he also knew that Odrik’s suggestions weren’t bad either. In fact, glazed ceramic was likely the most cost-effective option there was in Ravenhold. The reason he didn’t suggest it was not because it was brittle, but because he wasn’t sure how much he could trust the pottery workshop.

One, they might not have the capacity to do such a strange custom order any faster than Odrik with copper pipes. Second, having a noble place an order was too high-profile. They would start looking into the reason, and had the possibility of becoming a competitor in the toilet market. 

That would be a huge problem for Clay’s plan of using the toilets as leverage in his upcoming recruitment efforts. He was already relying on the pottery workshop he frequented for the S-traps. If every other workshop became a competitor, he would be hard-pressed to find someone to take his orders when they could see the finished product themselves. At least for the next few months, he planned to hold on to his monopoly. 

With no copyright in this world, perhaps it’s time I learn pottery myself and then do some branding to maintain my first-mover advantage even if someone else recreates it. 

If only there were such a profession class available…

“Hm, I think copper pipes are still your best bet,” Clay finally answered. “If you’ll be having it run alongside the exterior walls of your estate, it would be the most discreet or can add to the aesthetics, depending on what Odrik does. Stone or wood will take up too much bulk, and pottery is too fragile for something exposed to the elements.”

“That logic is sound. Very well. Odrik, begin working on the order. I trust your judgement in selecting materials that balance cost and timely completion.”

“Understood. I’ll get you a quote as soon as I consult my father. He will probably take the lead on this project, as he has greater mastery of work unrelated to dungeon equipment.”

“That’s fine.” Sylphira nodded, then turned to her head attendant. “Please see to it that he is paid.”

Clay was promptly handed a gold coin.

“Thank you, pleasure doing business with you.” He glanced at it for a moment before making up his mind to ask a favor. “Now that business is finished, I have a request I wanted to ask of you. But first, just to confirm, Odrik here is your party’s exclusive weaponsmith, correct?”

“That’s right!” Dorgan answered, beating everyone to the punch.

“Dorgan is right. Is there something you need?” Sylphira added.

“Yes, I wanted to ask if I could request his assistance in helping me create several items to attach to a staff. I wanted to have a shovel head, and maybe a hammerhead made that could fit the staff I plan to be crafting.”

Clay had thought it through ever since the prince had rejected his proposal. He had money sitting around, doing nothing. He could easily afford a proper weapon now, but he had gotten used to the shovel. It was also hard to justify the expense when he hadn’t been planning to confront any difficult enemies that would pose a challenge. He was fine with just fighting the relatively weaker monsters for loot.

It was how he came to the idea of just creating a staff and attaching the shovelhead onto it. It would be useful both in and out of combat, but he realized it was also somewhat lacking as a weapon. That’s why he came to the conclusion to just make it modular, allowing him to swap the head out, depending on the purpose.

With a staff as the base weapon, he could turn it into a polearm quite easily, but wielding a sharp weapon as a beginner didn’t seem like a great idea, either. In the end, he decided to start off with a hammerhead and a shovelhead as the first modular attachments.

“You want to attach something to the staff you’ll be crafting? Not a completely separate weapon?” Dorgan asked in disbelief. “That’s quite the idea you’ve got there. Ah, that’s why you asked those questions back then in the dungeon.”

“Yes. There’s no need to reveal what recipes your craftsman has or anything. The most I will ask for is maybe purchasing some of your spare materials. Something better than regular steel.”

The two veteran Delvers shared a glance for a second before shrugging.

“We have no objection to that,” the noblewoman said. “However, our stockpile of resources doesn’t just belong to us, but to our other party members as well, so we can’t give you a yes right away. You’ll be meeting them soon, though, so we can get a definitive answer then.”

“Also, you would ideally have your staff ready first,” Odrik added. “The dimensions of each dungeon item, even when using the same recipe, can vary in both size and bonus stats. Bring me the one you’re satisfied with, so I can take the right dimensions.”

“I see,” Clay said as he nodded. “That works. I’ll need some time to figure it out. I’m guessing it’ll take a little over a week until the toilet is done and you start showing it to other people, anyway.”

***

When Clay left Sylphira’s estate, he declined her offer to take him back in her carriage. He had them take Malik back instead as he took the time to stroll through the first ring while going over his priorities.

First things first, now that he was in the first ring, he wanted to make use of the opportunity and scour the district for anything resembling a cake or pastry shop. While the entire ring was for nobles, wealthy merchants, and powerful Delvers, it didn’t mean all of them could afford to hire the best chefs in their manors.

During his previous visit to the prince, he had seen many carriages going to and fro toward the more central part, so he wanted to investigate. With few people daring to leave the safety of the walls, he didn’t think it would be surprising for stores to sprout up even in the noble district. Nobles were also human.

As for his immediate priorities that he had to juggle between, there was learning pottery, how to create an oven, crafting his staff, making progress toward the second layer, and testing how structures held up within the dungeon. And looming beyond all these tasks was the matter of forming the guild.

There is too much to think about. I need some sugar to fuel my brain.

While his attire was out of place for the extravagance of the first ring, he paid it no mind and soon reached the central area. There, no longer were the estates divided into neat blocks of land. The cobblestone road opened up onto the town center. It resembled the second ring somewhat, but a much more exclusive version. Instead of exposing the streets to the blazing sun, numerous canopies were erected above. 

Pedestrian traffic here picked up, with many of them dressed similarly to Sylphira’s attendants and servants. There were even a few in priest robes with their distinctive hair styled in a long ponytail running about.

While the stores there weren’t as bustling as in the other parts of Ravenhold, the affluence they exuded made it clear they catered exclusively to a high-net-worth clientele. Even the market stalls with fresh produce seemed too fancy for their own good. 

Is this really necessary? It isn’t like high and mighty nobles would shop for vegetables. 

Ignoring the stores that carried similar products to what was found outside, Clay began exploring to his heart’s content. Fine clothing and trinkets seemed to be among the more common things sold. Just as he turned the corner of a brightly lit jewelry display, a mouthwatering aroma hit him like a truck.

His pace quickened as he drew closer to the smell. It wasn’t long before he found the source of the pleasantly sweet scent. An entire street filled with various bakeries, pastry shops, and even the cake shop he desired. The entire area was bustling with activity. Numerous well-dressed ladies were laughing merrily within such shops. A few of them were even accompanied by armed guards.

Naturally, the sight of Clay’s menacing figure drew their gaze to him, but the man in question didn’t even notice. He single-mindedly walked toward the closest cake shop, curious about what they had to offer.

With his eyes glued to the interior of the shop, he plowed right into someone, nearly knocking them both over.

I sure fucked up now!

“Sorry!” he exclaimed, rushing into a bowing position.

He didn’t even dare to look up, dreading what he had done. If he knocked over some noble lady, he could very possibly be finding himself back in a jail cell tonight. His body tensed as the other party spoke. 

“Er, it’s my fault as well. Please raise your head!”

Surprisingly, their voice wasn’t that of a high-class lady or a bodyguard. Instead, it was a strangely familiar tone of a young man.

Glancing up, it took him a few seconds before he recognized the other party.

“You’re that Delver with the church. Umm—what was your name again?”

“Uhh, I’m Eban. Do I know you?”

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