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BtM Chapter 25: Wisdom Gunther
🕑 Added 2024-04-17 04:12:09 +0000 UTCGunther stared at the back of the grand master as he wobbled out of the ship, shortly buckling down in order to empty the contents of his stomach.
The old man slowly stood back up, wiping the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. “Bloody Targaryens, look what they made out of us.”
Another wisdom, and one of their leader’s former acolytes, spoke in warning. “Grand master, we are in Dragonstone, it would be wise to keep such words to ourselves.”
“Bollocks! That damned prince threatens our livelihoods and demands servitude from our order, going against hundreds of years of tradition and secrecy!” The geezer was undeterred, however. “If the survival of our guild wasn’t at stake, I wouldn’t have put us in such a situation!”
Out of their thirty-ish gaggle of learned men, only a few seemed to outwardly agree with their leader. The rest -alongside the smallfolk in their vicinity- seemed really uncomfortable hearing his words, some of them unabashedly glaring at him.
Gunther was the same, out of the many wisdoms of the Alchemist Guild; he was one of the most influential, mainly due to the fact that he was bringing a ton of gold to their coffers.
He wasn’t a flame crazed obsessive fool, the only reason he chose the guild instead of the order of maesters was the lack of oaths. He never regretted his decision, of course, but he found himself at odds with his colleagues’ almost fanatical obsession with the ”substance” as they called it.
As a wisdom, he was naturally familiar with wildfire, yet his mercantile success came from leveraging their knowledge for other fields, taking inspiration from the new Dragonstone products, Gunther sought to create new types of perfume, modify dye making processes into cheaper ones, and attempt to integrate their magical expertise into their other products.
The latter didn’t see much success; the order’s magical knowledge is limited to the sorcerous aspects of wildfire, after all. But he found much success in his other ideas, making him second in the order –only behind the grand master- in terms of influence.
His help was crucial in convincing the others into seceding to the prince’s demands; he noticed that his grace seemed to get more and more annoyed by their continued stubbornness, so in fear of physical retaliation, he convinced the others to listen for once.
It was difficult, but he was successful, now they find themselves under new leadership, and hopefully the order’s priorities will shift to a direction much more in tune with his goals.
“Who is to receive us?” That dumb old fogey was still prattling on. “Are we so unimportant that they’ll leave us here to rot?!”
“Not at all.” An unfamiliar voice interjected.
He turned to see its source, only to find a young Maester with Valyrian features. ‘This must be Maester Vaelar.’
Next to him was a young teenager, wearing luxurious yellow velvet doublet, with elaborate green embroidery depicting dragons.
“Apologies for my late greeting, I was much too busy receiving his grace.” Maester Vaelar explains.
“N-not at all, we are grateful to be in the presence of his grace.” The grand master stuttered out, bowing alongside the rest towards the prince.
In their way to the islands, the sight of the majestic dragon circling their small fleet of ships was apparent, yet everyone figured that the prince had nothing to do with their arrival and that they would not meet him.
No one expected to come face to face with royalty.
“I found myself interested into the source of the innovative ideas coming from this island, and the kind Maester indulged my desire.” He said. “Do be comfortable, much like you, I am here only to observe.”
“Of course, your grace.” They echoed.
“Without further ado, would you follow me?”
They were led to a group of carriages, who carried them all through the crowded town into the direction of the Dragonmont. Wisdom Gunther and the grand master had the privilege to be seated next to the Maester and the prince.
Aegon stared out of the window, noticing their distant destination. “Where do we seem to be going? I assumed the journey would end somewhere in the city?” He asked.
The Maester smiled indulgingly at the prince. “Prince Baelon thought it to be prudent for our experimentations to be conducted away from onlookers or possible spies. Our experiments can be either dangerous or secretive, hence the isolation.”
“I see, and what would be the reason for having them at the Dragonmont? Won’t the dragon seekers object to that?”
Gunther found himself thankful for the prince’s presence; he was asking questions that Gunther wanted to.
“An astute question, your grace.” The maester answered. “We built our base in the Dragonmont for several reasons, one, is its geographical position, there was a small river with a strong flow in proximity going into the sea and mountains filled with old expansive tunnels that hid us from the wind and the rain. Secondly, is that Xyrax, the Prince’s dragon used to make the range its territory, and even with its absence surrounding dragons and hatchlings still respect its boundaries, allowing us to evade their wrath.” He finished speaking just as their carriage stopped. “Ah, it seems we have arrived.
They were led outside, gazing at the sight of their destination.
“Welcome, to the Workshop.” He comments.
The area was obviously flattened through some means, the suspiciously straight ground seemed to spontaneously turn to the south into hills all of a sudden, and the range would extend all the way into the shore to the east.
A small river would separate the settlement into two, going out of the plateaus into the sea; the sound of flowing water was strong when you walked close to it, denoting the strength of its flow.
Gunther couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer liveliness he was witnessing. Many men and women of many ethnicities and styles of dress walked through the region.
There was a makeshift village built around AND into the mountain, the whole hill was dug into house shaped protrusions, doubtlessly housing many people, there were other structures build around it all the way to the river.
What came to attention was the lack of common men, every person he saw had neither the look nor the presence of a typical smallfolk, all around him there were men discussing over books and working on contraptions, whilst a significant amount of purple cloaks stood guard, protecting them and observing them in equal measure.
“First, I’d like to show you our metalworkers, so follow me into the river.”
They did so, until they came to see the lively sight of blacksmiths hammering and working on metals, gathering around queer structures, there seemed to be two types, one which seemed like large clay cylindrical structures, they were attached to waterwheels spinning through the rivers, which were used to blow the giant bellows that fueled its giant hearth, a charging hole was attached to its pot, whereupon men would put in materials such as iron ore, charcoal or limestone.
Maester Vaelar pointed to them. “Those are our new blast furnaces, they are capable of producing significant amounts of pig iron over a short period of time, roughly one or two tons per day.” He smiled. “This was but one of the first ones to be made, more powerful, newer types, to be built on the banks of the Blackwater or in the north can go up to tens of tons per day.”
‘How much did he say?! No wonder those purple cloaks were all decked in plate armor!’ Gunther speechlessly thought.
Aegon was less impressed, however. He wasn’t versed in the minutiae of iron production and wasn’t capable of gauging the scale of this new method, yet he was capable to roughly sense its importance through observing the alchemists expressions.
Vaelar ignored their reactions, pointing to the second contraption. “This is a steel converter, using a new type of refined coal we call coke, we are able to more easily refine pig iron into steel, its size and efficacy would usually convert most of our iron into steel, allowing us to use it to much greater ease.”
“Most of the steel produced here is made into ingots and distributed to the many blacksmiths and such in order to create needed tools and weapons. Our goal is to experiment, after all, the only reason these ones are still in use is because we use great amounts of steel for other experiments.” He points to a particular area, where a man was layering molten steel over an already quenched piece. “That, per example, is an effort at producing a new type of steel that seems to be able to be used in making lighter and sharper weapons.”
“Every experiment is an investment, but we also value the freedom to chase ones passion.” He stares at the group of alchemists. “As long as your goals are deemed useful in one way or another, a certain amount of resources is going to be granted to you for its research, and you will be granted many rewards should you succeed.”
He mindlessly turns, leaving them to stew on the new revelation. “Let us visit the next area.”
For the next few hours they were shown the different parts of the premises, the word Workshop described the place perfectly, every moment, dozens if not hundreds of experiments were conducted, each one allowing them to better their methods ever so slightly, to innovate new processes and creations.
Throughout their tour, Gunther couldn’t help but think on the Maester’s words. The Alchemist’s Guild was never wealthy enough to throw money at experiments, they tried to do what they could, yet the nature of their products weren’t really productive for further developments. However, this new opportunity could be the impetus of change, their way of pushing their knowledge to the next level.
The Guild was old, they started off as former Valyrian slaves educated enough and sneaky enough to remember some of their methods and use them for their ends. The Doom of Valyria, however, took away most of that knowledge, only leaving some bits here and there.
During the centuries they didn’t really manage to improve much, their lack of an actual foundation of knowledge and the taboo put on it after the fall of the Valyrians made them ostracized by all possible customers.
It was almost a miracle, and definitively an accident, that they were able to discover wildfire, the discovery giving them great fame and influence at the beginning, a flame as potent as a dragon’s breath had the Essosi houses salivating, yet they soon discovered the impracticality of the substance, wildfire was just too uncontrollable, too potent.
And yet the guild had already cemented a tradition of dependency on it, all resources and research was put to making it even worse: hotter, stronger, and with a faster spread.
Their last resorts were the Targaryens, so when Aegon the Conqueror took over Westeros, they created another branch in the small town of Kingslanding, which as time went on managed to barely stand on its feet. The Essosi branches were not so lucky, however.
And now, now things are different.
As the exhibition almost came to an end, the alchemists found themselves even more surprised, new chemical processes that made new perfumes, spirits, and dyes. Liquid rock, obsidian jewelry, a compass that points north, and more! Every discovery made them speechless, if these people were able to do this, what could they –the alchemist- discover?
The prince however, found himself increasingly bored no matter how much he tried to focus, so when Maester Vaelar addressed him he was startled a bit. “I think this will interest you, your grace. The Workshop is home to a shipyard, it is here where your fleet is to be built.”
A gleam of interest made its way on the prince’s eyes. “Lead the way.”
The shipyard was another odd sight since it was built INSIDE the Cliffside. Strangely round tunnels were dug into, with support structures and access points built for launching and maintaining ships. It was also the most crowded, people working on making, maintaining, and repairing ships in different sized tunnels.
They gawked at some the ships designs, some looked way too unfamiliar, yet they can fit into two categories.
The first was probably a type of galley, a large oared warship characterized by its sleek design, multiple banks of oars, and a single mast with a square sail.
Gunther would wager the second to be a small, highly maneuverable sailing ship that had a narrow hull, lateen sails, and a combination of square and lateen rigging.
“This one, we call a dromond. The combination of oars and sails and its sleek frame allows it to be much faster than typical galleys while carrying roughly the same weight. It requires a larger amount of sailors in comparison, but it is a fair trade. They can be rowed at great speeds as long as there are no turns, and to take advantage of that trait it is equipped with a beak shaped ramming device at its prow.” He explains the first. “They should prove to be formidable warships for your future fleet, your grace.”
Aegon simply nods.
“The second was named a caravel; it is practically the opposite of a dromond. Small and maneuverable, this type of ship is as fast as the rumored swan ships of the summer islands, making them optimal for trade and exploration.”
“Both these types of ship are not known by anyone else, they are used locally around the islands but shall be first presented to the world under your command.”
“Now, if you would follow me, there is one last design I wish to show you.”
They were met with an aged man first, who gruffly greeted them with a grunt.
“Master Ferrego, is it docked?” Vaelar mysteriously asks.
“Yes, it needs more work, yet I think it will do for a demonstration.” The man spoke with a distinct Valyrian accent.
‘Braavosi?’ Gunther thought.
He leads them even deeper into the dock; at the distance they were able to see the side of a gigantic tunnel.
“The prince’s dragon himself dug this tunnel, we couldn’t do so ourselves in a short enough period.”
“What are you showing us, Maester?” Aegon asks.
“His grace told me to not say, he enjoys surprises, as you know.”
The prince snorts, no longer questioning him.
Then they saw it.
Gunther lived in Kingslanding, he saw many kinds of ships, small and large, yet none were as big as this… monstrosity before him.
In his humble estimates, Gunther would say that it was around 150 feet (45m) in length, a beam (width) of 45 feet (14m). He slightly leaned down, glanced at its submerged part; he would put its draft at 20 feet (6m).
“That... what is that?!” Aegon incredulously asks. “It’s as big as a fortress!”
Sounds of chocked agreements echo at his statement, that ship was very large, it was a wonder how it could float in the first place, let alone sail.
“That, is a belated nameday gift from Prince Baelon to you, your grace.” He says. “And is to be the flagship of your new fleet.”
“He shouldn’t have…” Aegon softly comments.
Vaelar just ignores him. “This is a Galleon, the first legitimate one to be made, a large, multi-decked sailing ship with four masts, square-rigged sails, copper sheathing for the hull, and scorpion bolters attached to its lowest deck.” He says. “It is faster than you might think, yet still quite slow, so the scorpion bolts are capable of latching to other ships through the use of chains, which is attached to a lever that can be used to actually pull entire ships to close proximity.”
“It should take a couple of months to get finished; the three hundred sailors that are going to man it are training at this very moment.” The Braavosi shipwright continues. “What would you like to name it, your grace?”
“Can you paint it in red and gold?” At the man’s nod, he continues. “Then I’d like to name it the Sun’s Glare, after Sunfyre.” He turns to Vaelar, an emotional look in his eyes. “I want to visit the sailors next; I’d like to see the people who are going to be using my brother’s gift.”
Vaelar shrugs. “I have no knowledge of that side of things, your grace.” He answers. “You will be better served asking Ser Alfred Broome, he is usually responsible for the training of soldiers, sailors or otherwise.”
Aegon nods. “Then I bid you farewell.” He leaves, only now does Gunther notice the many soldiers trailing behind them, who follow the prince back to the castle.
__________________________________________________________________________________
After that whole debacle, Vaelar takes them to their wing of the workshop, a space supposedly reserved for their use.
“This is naturally even more isolated than our other spaces.” He comments. “I thought it to be a prudent countermeasure considering the… delicate nature of your products.”
Gunther hums in thought as his gaze perused the contents of the space.
It was an open area, connected to the shore for easy access to water, alongside several simple buildings for housing and a small warehouse for storing their resources.
He could still hear the sound of the workers of the dockyard, making its proximity apparent.
He leads them into the warehouse, mentioning for the many materials neatly put inside.
“I made the liberty of preparing some ingredients, I hope we were accurate.”
Gunther notices quicklime, brimstone, rosin, and tar. Alongside several exotic herbs and storages filled with blood.
He takes a whiff. ‘Pig blood.’ He thinks.
He wasn’t the only one to notice the similarities. “How?!” Their grand master exclaims. “The ingredients of the substance are supposed to be our greatest secret!”
Vaelar smiles reproachfully. “We simply follow the gold, I understand that your knowledge of economics may not be the best, but even if you try to sneak in the real ingredients amidst your purchases, just randomly buying some isn’t bound to cut it.” He said. “The prince is the de-facto ruler of the city you live in, and much of what you buy is actually offered by our merchants. It was a simple affair to analyze the records and deduce your recipe by the regularity of your purchases and the nature of the ingredients.” He says. “You are in fact lucky that we made sure to hide them, having the knowledge of how to make wildfire spread is not a good prospect for us.”
Gunther chuckles nervously. “Thank you, for your kind gesture.” He says, before that old fuck could ruin things to hell.
“Good.” The Maester says. “Now, these are your instructions. You are not to share what you see, hear, or know about this place, it doesn’t matter if you get drunk, or if someone is holding your family hostage, if a single word or story spreads through your lips then these gentlemen-“ He mentions to the surrounding purple cloaks menacingly staring at them. “-Would easily fix the problem.”
At their nervous faces, Vaelar nods in satisfaction before continuing. “Your main first task is simple, your primary product, wildfire, is too unwieldy, we need you to tame it.”
“That is impossible!” The grand master runs his mouth, again. “The substance is a material of chaos, of destruction! To try to diminish that would border on heresy!” He spat out.
Vaelar stares with complete apathy. “I do not care, neither does the prince. A sword without a handle is useless, and one made of Valyrian steel is also idiotic. If you do not manage to tame wildfire, or at least make it usable with considerable safety, then we will take the useful ones out of the bunch, while the rest would be… dismissed.”
“I cannot accept! Especially from a grey rat!” He prattles on again, the spit falling off of his mouth. “I will not desecrate my reputation for such stupidity! With my authority as grand master, no one will-“
Gunther had enough, so he simply punched the senile fuck in the face.
He was no warrior, his fist was slow and clumsy, but the man was already far past his prime, falling to the ground like bag of bricks.
He massages his arm mindlessly. “Sorry for the buffoon’s misconduct.” Now that there is a new authority to answer to, there is no longer any need to act respectfully to the old one. “I believe the rest of us can be more adequate for the task.”
The rest of the acolytes and wisdoms nod in agreement. Seeing that, Vaelar smiles in interest.
“That is fine; do you have any additional requests?”
Gunther thinks for a moment. “Any books on Valyrian alchemy would be most helpful.” He finally settles.
Vaelar nods. “I believe Dragonstone has one or two in its library, and we will also ask our merchants to look out for others.” He answers. “Any additional requests can be relayed through any of the purple cloaks, Wisdom Gunther. I hope we shall have an amicable relationship.” The maester extends his arm.
Gunther finishes the handshake. “So do I.”
In the future, Gunther would be known for his legendary discoveries in the realms of alchemy. He would preach the concept of innovation for the sake of direct applications, and would be crucial in the rise of the Workshop as the second major center of knowledge in Westerosi history.
