Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 509 Visit
Upon hearing this, Beverley, who had just regained some energy, was speechless, looking just like a duck being choked.

"No! I'll give you money, even magical items, please don't send me to the temple!"

After a brief system crash, the half-body was so frightened he almost jumped up, and the mage's response was also very straightforward.

"The law is a deterrent!"

Come again? !
Having already suffered a loss, Beverley never expected that there would be an even more ruthless trick waiting for him, and his face turned ashen, as if he had swallowed a dead fly.

A high-level spellcaster randomly targeted me and attacked me viciously—what a terrible thing to do!
The halfling curled up in a ball, covering his ears tightly, as if that would ward off the wicked wizard's death-bringing curses.

It worked!
The halfling, who had assumed the pose of a golden toad embracing an elixir, closed his eyes and clenched his fists. After a long moment of panic, he realized that nothing was wrong.

Did I make it through?

Beverick opened his eyes a crack and saw that the mage in front of him was holding something. Just as he was about to take a closer look, he suddenly felt as if he had been hit on the head, and his consciousness, which had only recently become clear, fell back into chaos.

The last thing he saw before he fell to the ground was the despicable act of that vile sorcerer holding a wooden mallet.

I, a thief, got ambushed by a mage?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when the halfling kissed the earth once more.

The world spun around me, and when my consciousness returned to my body, I vaguely heard that somewhat familiar yet hateful voice.

“Your Excellency, this is the perpetrator of the theft that day.”

"Oh, it's this little guy?"

The response came from a somewhat aged yet steady voice:
"We are very grateful for Lord Chanem's help in returning this item to our Lord's Temple. We will certainly not fail our friend who came with good intentions."

One of the two parties in the conversation was naturally Master Zhang, and the other was the bishop of the Mysterious Hall, who was also the head of the Gond Church in the Bode region, the master craftsman Braslan.

After listening to their conversation and glancing around at his surroundings, Beverley understood his predicament.

This is the Mystic Hall, the sacred abode of the God of Craftsmen, and also a large exhibition hall responsible for displaying and promoting the novel creations that the Church of Gonde has come up with.

Of course, it was also a treasure trove that this master thief never forgot, a place he wanted to seize any opportunity to pull off a heist.

Now, Mr. Beverly was directly invited into the Mysterious Hall without having to worry about the timing and route of his infiltration or the patrolling guards.

Bound and gagged, and in the position of a prisoner…

"It was just something I did on the spur of the moment, there's no rush to ask for a reward."

The monk waved his hand, not mentioning any reward or payment, but instead inquired about the strange object:
"But I'm also quite interested in this item. If I'm not mistaken, it should be a timer, right? Yet it doesn't have any magical fluctuations or aura."

When the topic turned to his own field, High Priest Braslan became quite interested:
“My mage friend, you have a good eye. This is indeed a timer, but it is far superior to those cumbersome magical hourglasses and pendulums!”

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to belittle alchemical creations, I was just saying..."

Suddenly realizing the other party's identity as a mage, the priest intended to offer an explanation, but the latter, unconcerned with such formalities, took over the conversation instead: "A precision instrument constructed solely from clockwork gears possesses mechanical beauty without the need for arcane magic."

"Ah, yes, the beauty of machinery, what an apt word, to praise the master craftsman!"

Bishop Braslan raised his hands in a gesture of embracing the sky, then looked at the mage with a hint of admiration:
"Without needing those expensive magical materials, nor requiring the assistance of alchemists, this spring-loaded rotary timer was forged by the masters of our church with exquisite craftsmanship. Its size and portability alone far surpass other timers, and it doesn't require any charging or power supply; the spring itself provides all that..."

"Then why not mass-produce and put it on the market?"

The master craftsman, who was eloquently boasting about his extraordinary creations, paused for a moment, then his tone became somewhat hesitant, mentioning things like "pioneering experimental work," "meticulously handcrafted by a master," and so on.

The monk understood, and although there were many reasons, the bottom line was simply: expensive.

The high cost is not in the raw materials, but in the labor. Mechanical timers that do not involve alchemy do not need those expensive magical materials. The craftsmen create industrial-standard machines with their own precision. The skill involved is admirable, but it also raises the bar to a level that is difficult for ordinary people to reach.

Aside from the Church of Gonde, how many powerful workshops could have master craftsmen of this caliber to complete the manufacturing? Even the Church wouldn't treat its high-ranking members like cattle, having them do nothing but huff and puff with small copper hammers to forge parts all day long.

crazy?

Braslan himself was one of the master craftsmen, and as a bishop, he didn't dare to force those masters to produce any fixed products; he was too busy serving them.

Therefore, even though this thing is a non-magical creation, its cost and accessibility are not as good as ordinary magical artifacts, and market promotion is out of the question. In the end, it will end up as an exhibit, just like other magical artifacts such as the Steam Dragon.

"Ultimately, the manufacturing process is too complicated and the standards are too strict, making it difficult to replicate on a large scale."

The bishop was left speechless by the mage's words and could only reply with:
"Not all innovations are for sale, and the sparks of wisdom do not necessarily produce the echo of gold coins colliding."

"That being said, I also believe in one thing,"

Someone borrowed an advertising slogan from a past life:

"Technology changes lives."

Upon hearing this, Blansca frowned slightly, pondering the implication of her words.

"So you came here not for such a petty thief? What are your intentions? What do you want to get?"

The archbishop's tone no longer carried the warmth of meeting a kindred spirit, but rather a hint of businesslike formality and distance.

"I also have a treasure, please take a look at it today."

As he spoke, the mage took out an object and handed it over. The bishop, who was about to say something, swallowed back his words after taking the object and examining it closely. His focused scrutinizing gaze was comparable to that of an old bachelor on his wedding night, scrutinizing the bride he had spent all his savings to marry.

"Hmm? A new type of timer. These pointers and dial markings are very interesting. Are they imitating the markings of a sundial?"

Blaslan, also a technician, noticed many clues and roughly understood its function.

Although the watch was tightly sealed like an opaque black box, the corner of the watch movement, with its tightly meshed gears peeking out from the dial, continuously emitted a rhythmic ticking sound, all reminding one thing:

Thank you for the monthly votes from the 12th ethnic group and the "All Streams Share the Same Origin" group!
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(End of this chapter)