36th of Spring, 510 AV Not everything goes as planned, and when our carefully laid stratagems go awry, there is nothing to do but keep calm and decide upon a remedy. Unless of course it involves moving over seventy five pounds of iron. The bongos were cracking. It had been not even a day before their ruination commenced. Alistair had been inspecting his creation once more, checking the dimensions for warping, for cracks, for anything loose or rattling. It was during this secondary inspection that deGrey noticed the drums were tighter than they originally had been. The inventor pulled up the dimensions he had taken for the drums, comparing them to the new values. It was quite clear to deGrey, that inanimate objects did not randomly grow half a centimeter over the course of eighteen hours. Damn. The water was swelling the wood. It should have been obvious to Alistair, not as if his wooden doors were not swollen as well. This is a phenomena he should have been familiar with. The personal reprimand was harsh. Through a veil of contrition he worked, searching his book for something to waterproof his leather and wood with. It was a logical enough choice for the basic philtering book, as people needed to water proof all manner of objects. So sure enough, near the back pages of the codex, deGrey found the recipe, Waterproofing Tincture.
While the philter was not perfect for deGrey's needs, it would work. In all reality he could have just simply smothered the drums with a small coating of wax, which he had from Ha'na's bee hives. However, Alistair decided he could use the practice in any case. He set the book down on his desk and began looking for the requested ingredients. Alistair reviewed them a few times, committing their names to memory.
It quickly dawned on Alistair that he would need to make a trip to the bazaar for three out of the four ingredients. He still had more than enough alcohol to suit his needs, forever. It would not be difficult to find the ingredients, they were simple enough. The inventor shrugged into his elaborate coat and straightened himself as he pulled open the door to leave. The sound of a lock clicking into place was the last Alistair deGrey heard of his shop before he departed. Approximately twenty five minutes later... OOC :
I really do not want to post to the Bazaar just for those ingredients, so I will simply roleplay leaving and returning in here, and subtract 5 Mizas from my ledger since I doubt those things are on the price list
Alistair returned with the ingredients in hand: A pound of beeswax, and a handful of stargazer lilies. The inventor set the components down on the workshop table as he hung his coat back on its peg. A sigh escaped, the bazaar had been crowded as usual, and attempting to negotiate a price had been tedious. deGrey usually ended up caving.
Alistair pulled one of his alembics from the writing desk nestled in the corner. It still smelled heavily of alcohol. A dusting of soot lined the side that faced the fire, a testament to its previous usage. deGrey filled the alembic's first chamber with the ale and placed is by the fire. The alcohol in the rum would boil before the rest of the ingredients did, so it would rise in steam to upper chamber, and condense away from the fire. Alembics are genius. While the alcohol boiled away, Alistair moved quickly into his workshop and dug about for the previous owner's mortar and pestle. The old engineer used this to mix substances into his mortar, but deGrey had not needed it until right now. deGrey dug through the cabinets. The mortar and pestle was the first tool Alistair had learned about in his philtering class at the university. However, he had not actually gotten to use one, because the day the class was engaged in experimentation with the tool, Rowan Cedany decided to visit. Needless to say, Alistair immediately extricated himself. So he knew what a mortar and pestle was, but just had never used one. Aha! The stained marble mortar presented itself to Alistair in one of the lesser used cabinets. The inventor padded over to get his flowers, and then moved back into the shop to watch the alcohol so the glass did not shatter. He plopped the book down beside him on the bed.
Alistair tore the leaves from the lilies, ripping them into small pieces that he then stuffed into the mortar, which smelled strange but not unpleasant. It took deGrey a few moments to determine the best way to move the pestile, but once he did- alcohol was boiled! Leather gloves slid onto deGrey's hands and he quickly stole the alembic away from the hungry fire. He then detached the second chamber, with the clear alcohol, and immediately moved it to rest on his desk. The distiller itself followed, set aside to be cleaned later. Back to the leaves. deGrey figured his rhythm, quickly crushing the leaves into a green paste. They smelled odd, mixing in with the previous smells of the mortar. For now deGrey sat the smelly bowl beside the distilled alcohol.
deGrey found a lovely ceramic plate and placed his allotment of beeswax and set it by the fire, allowing it some time to melt. In the meantime, he carefully grasped the alcohol and took it in to the bongos. After he had discovered the damage, Alistair had stopped the device. Now it sat quiet in his display room, pondering its lack of productivity. deGrey nearly winced as he smeared a light coating of alcohol on the bongos. It seemed so wrong to put more liquid on it, but Alistair new it would evaporate shortly. Back in his workshop, the wax was almost melted. Only a small iceberg remained in a sea of liquid ice. Alistair now pinched the leafless lillies by the steam near the flowers, and pushed down. A paltry amount of liquid came out, and Alistair realized he had a problem. The inventor grabbed a beaker, and scooped about half of the wax into it, then put the plate aside and began to squeeze the small amounts of fluid into the melted wax. After the vascular fluids had been mixed, Alistair dumped a small bit of the leaf mash into the wax, and began to mix it. The resulting substance smelled odd, not quite like beeswax or the leaves. deGrey clasped the beaker in a pair of tongs and brought it to the drums. The temperature would be important, because if it was too hot the leather would be ruined. Or rather, that was Alistair's logical conclusion. But the wax melted at a low enough temperature that he was able to wait a few seconds for it to cool before applying it. The warm goo coated deGrey's hands as he smeared a light coating over each drum. The wax quickly solidified as he spread it thin over the leather and wood. In some places Alistair needed to pick away at it where it had lumped together, and then apply a new coating. It did not take long before the waterproof coating has covered both bongos in a thin, nearly invisible layer. Hopefully, this would solve his troubles. deGrey rewound the weight and let it fall. |