Alchemical Materials:

Alchemy in Everwealth is not the practice of mere chemistry but the careful manipulation of the world’s intrinsic magicks, bound within every living thing, every breath of wind, every grain of earth. It is a discipline of balance, of coaxing hidden potential from matter and bending it toward creation or destruction. To the untrained, it is a practice of measurements and mixtures, but to those who have studied its depths, it is the art of unearthing the secret power within all things. The marrow of beasts, the molten veins of the earth, the remnants of storms long past, each holds purpose, waiting only for the right hands to shape them.   Among the rarest and most coveted components are those that originate from the living or the long-dead, their essence carrying a potency unmatched by inert substances. The heart of a man, taken at the peak of his years, has long been whispered to prolong vitality, though a stolen heart brings only misfortune, cursing the drinker to hear the final gasps of its previous owner. Dragon sheddings, remnants of creatures as old as time itself, promise near-impervious endurance, yet they fill the mind with avarice, twisting thought toward hoarding and greed. There are materials that bridge the gap between the waking and the spectral Wraith Salts, when properly refined, allow glimpses into the realms beyond, but a careless hand may find the veil pulled back too far, drawing something through in return. Some substances defy even the fundamental rules of life; Resin from Burnbrambles can dull the body’s pain or plunge it into a deathless slumber, while Storm-Glass Crystals, formed in the heart of tempests, bring a clarity so sharp it can sever reason itself. The earth’s own bones offer alchemists tools of resilience and ruin alike. Quick-Iron, a liquid metal that strengthens the flesh, burdens the drinker with an unnatural heaviness, slowing their limbs as their bones thicken. Blackglass Dust, born of volcanic fury, can shroud a body in shadow, yet prolonged use ensures they will never again be fully seen, even when they wish to be. And there is no prize more perilous than Goldblood Ore, a substance so rare that a sliver of it is worth a kingdom. Infused into elixirs, it heals wounds as swiftly as they are made, but those who drink it for too long find their very blood turning to metal, their bodies frozen in the glistening, unyielding embrace of living gold. The power of alchemy is not in the mixing of elements but in the wisdom to know when to wield it and when to leave the world’s deepest secrets untouched.