From Iron to Silver (Between Sessions 2 and 3)

Zloton,
 
Well, I had a fun night. Didn’t sleep all that well, but it was fun anyway. We got up early, went to the courthouse, got a magistrate to witness the deed transfer, and then we paid a 25 dragon estate tax.
 
We got a look at the house but resolved to take an actual tour of it tomorrow. I don’t see why we should delay, but I was outvoted. Unlike me, they aren’t running out of time. I understand. They have lives beyond this and it would be hypocritical of me to do anything but leave them to enjoy it. I enjoy mine after all.
 
Perhaps a ghostly existence may entertain as well. With the help of the condensation on a window, that I should say firmly was completely bare before, were the words “Closing Time”
 
Well, I think that settles the ghost question or that at least *someone* wishes it to appear that a ghost inhabits the house. Whoever wrote it, I think we can both agree has a charming sense of humor.
 
We agreed to investigate tomorrow, and so I was left to my own devices. It began normal enough. I walked to a tavern to get lunch. What was less normal was how I felt. Last night’s experiences made me feel...tougher, not stronger exactly, but I don’t know. It’s hard to explain, but I felt like I could take a couple more punches before getting knocked out, if that makes sense. I mean I don’t feel as tough as my young and...unscorched self, but even getting a little of my old hardiness back is incredible.
 
Anyway, naturally I entered The Dripping Dagger in an excellent mood. People stared, but they always stare so I just smiled at them. Today I ordered the Cooked beans (hot-spiced) with added salt pork chunks. It was tasty, not as good as Grandmother’s beans, but they never are. I took my notes, but I found my mind wandering as I drank my tankard of water.
 
To pass the time, I did what I never really do: contemplate wizardry. I know. I’m the lousiest of wizards. So many bright young faces flock to the art, eager to become the next legendary figures that can warp our very reality. They study for years, diligently, with passion and love. And I use this much coveted gift to make potatoes taste like beans. My very existence probably angers...um what's his name again? You're religious; you know these things, don't you? Azuth. I just asked a neighbor to remind me. I was saying the god of wizards must think I am insulting his whole profession.
 
I mean, what wizard gets into it for the sole reason of learning *prestidigitation*? Naturally I'm a poor wizard. I missed most of my shots after all. Then again, from failure comes the sweet aroma of success.
 
I feel different. It's difficult to describe. Perhaps me actually focusing on my wizardry for once as I shot frost rays put me in a new mindset because I feel like I have more space in my head. I opened my spellbook. I barely look in there unless I’m casting, but when I idly tried to memorize another one, I could. I have 4 spells in my head at once! Can you believe it? I felt charged, almost like how it felt when you asked me to show you my breath. I have this restless energy about to overflow. Usually, when I feel this way, I let it out through some baking and then eating, but this wasn't about cooking. I was *excited* by wizardry.
 
I contemplated, took notes; I wasn't even sure what notes I was taking, but I could feel on the brink of something. I thought of the wood of the door Pete knocked down last night. I thought of how it splintered. I thought of the silver bars in the Zentarim back room, soon to be sold and smelted. I thought of the copper coins jingling as they entered Flynn’s pouch. I thought of iron manacles in the ilithid’s torture chamber, probably still rusting where we left them. I thought of all the frost rays that slammed into stone walls instead of their targets. The stone had dented. It hit me that it was all the same. It hit me like a frost ray that actually *made* contact with my face. They were...connected. Like the divide between one substance and another was an illusion. I drew a star of sorts, recording how each substance was alike and how they could possibly succumb to each other. It reminded me of my cooking notes, like a recipe, but one that could be read in any direction depending on what material you had on hand.
 
I sat back, spent, but satisfied. I took a sip from my tankard and tasted a metallic tang I did not expect. I looked down to see that the wooden mug had become silver. It was silver, Zloton. My notes were right! I felt...I’ve never felt this way about wizardry before. It was the same feeling I got when I successfully made Grandmother’s lavender cake for her, for the first time.
 
Suddenly I was not spent at all. Suddenly, my energy seemed boundless. I tried different transmutations. Copper to silver, silver to iron, iron to stone, stone to copper. With each attempt came refinement, a tweak here, an unneeded step to skip there. By the end, I could transmute at a rate of ten minutes per one cubic feet. I don’t think I can get any faster than that. I also can’t do any other materials. I don’t know if they are actually different or the illusion that keep them separate is just inscrutable to me right now. Further tests are needed. In any case, it does not last. I’ll have to time it with more precision next time, but I’m pretty sure the change only lasts for an hour. I don’t know how I could extend it. Again, I’ll have to contemplate.
 
I was on fire, metaphorically this time. Ha! And as such, I decided not to waste it. For the first time ever, I went to The Tower of the Order, the hall of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors. I’m a part of the guild nominally. As I wrote when I first entered Waterdeep, I was...heavily urged that I join or else be ostracized. I joined out of politeness, but now, I was determined to reap the benefits of the tax they demand of me. The gate is magnificent, shimmering, shifting between symbols of Mystra and Azuth and they let me in when I showed my symbol of the guild.
 
Once within the walls, I immediately became lost. I thought maybe I could find Ristrien, but it soon became clear that was a fool's errand. It was huge. It’s apparently one of the biggest guild halls in the city. Seems inevitable in retrospect. When you politely force every spellcaster in the city to join your guild it’s bound to be large. Even in those crowds I stuck out. I felt like I was intruding. I wasn’t a real wizard. I did not belong there. I considered trying to find my way back to the gate, but I was still metaphorically on fire and so I asked for directions from strangers several times, but eventually I came to the library. I looked for Ristrien again, didn’t find her. That was alright, I wasn’t there for her.
 
I was here to learn spells. I know. Spells! Looking back, I can hardly believe what came over me, but it was this feeling in my gut, Zloton. I have sucked at learning every spell Mokuz ever taught me, but for some reason, I knew I could learn more.
 
So I did.
 
I won’t bore you with my research for it was pretty dull. Most of it was reading, and what was not reading was writing. I was trying to figure out if there was a way to protect my notes from destruction, incineration or otherwise. I did not succeed, however I did end up with a spell to protect things I write from prying eyes. Not what I wanted but I’ll take it.
 
I practiced it by writing out a letter to Ristrien. It has occured to me that she has both the means and perhaps the inclination to help me in my life’s work. With this new spell, I wrote out to her what I wanted to achieve, though I left my draft for my help wanted sign in normal ink incase she wished to show it to people or post it. Once done I rushed to the first person I found and asked if they could read it. They couldn’t! I’ve never been more delighted at *not* being understood. This woman asked if I had used the lead inks to do it (I had). She warned me that usually they cost 10 dragons and that in the future I needed to keep that in mind. Warning duly noted. I’ll hold off on using it until we have a stable source of income.
 
I asked the woman if she knew Ristrien Robina. She said vaguely, so she was kind enough to promise to deliver my letter to her. I left the library in a triumphant mood, got lost twice, but eventually found my way out and back to the city. Upon my return to my boarding, I found that Ristrien had already replied. Goodness. Praise the punctuality of librarians. Praise their generosity too. She agreed to assist my work and post by job on their magical message board, Can you imagine a magical message board? I hope to see one.
 
Anyway, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. If it is too my liking, which I expect it will be, I could be on the eve of...well, it is difficult to go to sleep from all the excitement. If I do not see you, I’ll write again tomorrow.