Clueless Delver

"This Imi-Adam is right, if you have time to make a din here you are better off practicing for the next tincturing.," a clear, deep voice rang across the hall, unusually drowning out the noise of the hecklers whose eyes widened as they looked towards its source. Walking into the hall from behind was a short bald man in red robes with long curly beard that was groomed to bear a nearly perfect cylindrical shape.

"Say all you want, yours truly, Imi-Adan shall succeed the Cauldron of Granite in the end! Hahaha!" the scrappy girl yelled haughtily at the crowd pointing toward her chest with her thumb Following this, the crowd went in an uproar, many scolding her for her blatant arrogance.

"What are you looking at? If you are feeling bitter you should have worked harder on tincturing!" The scrappy girl taunted the crowd whose faces now turned to suppressed fury at having been gloated on by one of lower status. "What's there to gloat about you scrappy pinecone, you're ranked the last on the Bronze obelisk..." "Arrogant dwarf! May you eat your barley and sink into the ground !" The crowd murmured in displeasure.

The owner of the voice bore a small stature, her skin tan, wearing a black headband made of goat's pelt holding up her long brown hair, and a short robe made of the same material. Looking at her scrappy short attire, many judged that she was from the peripheries.  After all, the length and make of one's garb indicated one's status. The looks on majority of the faces in the huddle became gloomy as they did not expect such a character to have passed and to have her rub it in such a manner.

"Yes! Yes! I"ve made it! Oh thank the Clouds!" An jubilant exclamation of a young woman resounded through the halls from behind the huddle of anticipants. Many heads turned toward this woman as her voice echoed.

Only a quarter of the height of the pillar appeared to be inscribed with words, bearing only a total of 17 names. At the top was the name of the prodigious Ids-Ansur the top of all of his peers, that was to be expected given his status as the son of the late Cauldron's Librarian, so the rest expectantly scanned the rest of the list.

The moment the pillar was settled into the ash pit, a crowd of young tincturers formed around it, gazing expectantly upon the inscriptions that were written upon a single face of the hexagonal pillar that faced north-west. Unlike the rest of the faces which were similarly inscribed, the north-western face was finished with a film of bronze that made the words upon them glisten slightly in the rays of sunlight that filtered from crystalline roof above. This face of the hexagon essentially directed toward the Su-Galam, the the Highest City of the Throne of Granite, and indicated the names of those who passed this stage of the tincturing.

Several hours later, before the Font of Ash. A large hexagonal pillar was laid on the floor surrounded by two Echomancers who stood by its side holding palm sized copper bell. As they each held out their bells in the direction of the pillar, each bell began to vibrate rapidly alongside the pillar which rotated on its axis and was finally planted upon a pit of ash.

"As you command Master Gisir," Insu gave a small bow with a sly smile on her expression as she held her palm to her breast, making the gesture of respect and turned to leave the gallery. With another gaze at Inur-Ash, who appeared to have concluded his tincturing, the bitter voiced Gisir furrowed her brows before vanishing into the shadows.

"Be careful of what you say Insu... Though we are long acquainted, you should be aware of your limits..." the bitter voiced woman spoke in a stern tone without moving her gaze from Inur-Ash's desk, to which the gentle voiced woman who was named Insu chuckled.

But such decisions of prioritizing the distribution of resources laid with the council or the Granite Cauldron. Now effectively with the passing of the late Cauldron, there naturally would avenues to divert resources by influencing the council. But as one would expect, many on the council deemed it more sensible to invest in the cities as opposed to the rural regions, where returns were not guaranteed.

Indeed, the peripheral settlements around Mi-Gilsu had much fewer resources than the any primary fiefs - it followed that the amount of talent was significantly lower. It was likely an stroke of great fortune that led to the nurturing of such a prodigy there - and so the bitter voiced woman knew what the gentle voiced one was trying to say.

The bitter voiced woman softly harrumphed, hearing the origins of Inur-Ash, as she recalled the general location of Soot, which was a backwater village some distance southwest of Mi-Gilsu, which was one of the Primary Fiefs of the Cauldron of Granite.

"I hear this candidate was given the monicker the Prodigy of Soot," the gentle voiced woman spoke as they now saw Inur-Ash initiating the process of condensation which seemed to be using following the standard methods for the the Farsight concoction this tribulation required.

Inur-Ash's tincture at the stage of filtration forming a binding residue, demonstrated decisively that his skill was at the level of Adept, at worst, putting him far above even those with decades of experience behind them. The bitter voiced woman knew for a fact that she had only reached Binding attainment in filtration only two years ago despite being one of the few identified as prodigious in her youth.

"Binding residue..." the two women spoke nearly at the same time as they saw the underside of the unpeeled web which revealed a dark purple residue formed in a segmented circle. Each segment was nearly the length of a grown man's ring finger - giving it its name. The grade of one's filtration was split into several tiers named after the poetic names five fingers of one's hand, namely the digits of Grasping, Projecting, Reaching, Binding and Releasing. Disregarding Palm residue, which symbolized utter failure, Grasping Residue was the mark of basic adequacy and Releasing Residue was the mark of transcendence.

With his middle and index finger pointed at the Clay Vessel Beetle, Inur-Ash's arm seemed lightly tremble in a rhythmic fashion. At the same time, the beetle appeared to be begin to rotate, causing the webs covering its contents to peel off.

The ponderances of the two women were resolved immediately as they saw Inur-Ash reach for the clay bowl. "It appears to be a Clay Vessel Beetle... the bowl itself was there all along but no one noticed it until it moved to a more prominent location..." the bitter voiced woman muttered in a somewhat disappointed tone, though it was not clear whether the disappointment was directed to herself or to Inur-Ash.

"If I were to make a wild guess, I would imagine that this might be the work of a Mirage Moth..." "You mean to say that what we see upon his desk is likely an illusion?"

"Indeed, I have only personally seen it's use by tincturers of nectar in the Southern regions," The two women quietly scrutinized every move by Inur-Ash, hoping to glean insight as to how he seemingly completed several steps of the tincturing process almost instantly.

 As she spoke, the bitter voiced woman drew a lens from her robe and placed it before her left eye, focusing in the general direction of Inur-Ash. The woman stayed in this position for a several seconds, observing the desk before Inur-Ash. "It appears to be the work of Entomancy - this is indeed unheard of," the bitter voiced woman said. "Entomancy you say? Isn't that the obscure art of commanding beetles?"

Inur-Ash still stood before his desk with his arms folded, yet somehow a clay bowl was before him covered with what appeared to be a filter made from dense webs. From the bowl was emanating a pink mist that signified near completion of the tincture. "Gravel Cobwebs... That is a rather unusual choice of filter..." the bitter voiced woman muttered, somewhat intrigued.

"Well, it's not so different, I'm here hoping to gain some inspiration for my own work," the gentle voiced woman sighed briefly as she her gaze briefly swept past Inur-Ash. "Hmm...? When did this candidate complete filtration...?"

"I see, it is no wonder I've seen you specatating several times in spite of your role... Which I suppose I should avoid mentioning..." the gentle voiced woman chuckled softly. "I appreciate your consideration. But now that you mention it, it sounds as though you are not here for the same purpose as I."

"It is truly inconceivable - to this day, even when we are halfway through this Tincturing... I find it hard to believe the Council decided to proceed with this farce. I can only attribute it to the some machinations behind the late Cauldron..." "And have you, any leads one that front?" "That is what I am hoping will be revealed here... Those who are likely of success ok this stage are probably associated with those with vested interests..."

"Following your bar of worth, it appears that none are worthy, if we exclude those clearly taking incorrect steps, and those are are petrified by pressure," the woman with gentle voice replied as she swept her gaze across the crucible hall.

"Of course! Take a look at the most promising at the generation for instance," the woman with the bitter voice spoke as she pointed at Tul-Mitush. "Though it is as you say, her control of flame is perhaps on-par with your own, which is impressive for her age, the other steps appear to be only slightly above average and do not seem to bring anything new to the cauldron." "I would think as a trial to deem oneself fit to succeed the Cauldron of Stone - only those worthy of to be chosen are those who display new methods."

 "It appears that there is a glut unremarkable tincturers. If only I were a little younger, I would have dominated this Tribulation..." From a spectating gallery above the crowd surrounding the granite tables, the somewhat bitter voice of a woman could just barely be heard amongst the excited chatter of the onlookers of the scene. "You believe so? Their command of tincturing flame in general seems to be considerably more steady compared to our generation," the gentle voice of another woman replied.

"Who cares about him - check out Tul-Mitush - she's already at the second filtration of her concoction!" "Man... If only I were a quarter as talented as her..." Chatter grew at the crowd around three tables ahead of the reticent Inur-Ash. Unlike the other tables which were tending to the flame of a cauldron, a woman wearing a shawl which obscured her mouth and had her black hair tied by a wooden ornament in a spiky bun pointed at an intricate assembly of glassware at the bottom of which was a translucent sieve

"Is that really the prodigy of Soot? He was hasn't even touched his ingredients"  "He's just standing there with his arms folded... Is he casting some sort of spell?" "Could it be that he bribed his way to this stage? What injustice this is!" Much muttering from onlookers echoed through the Crucible Hall where Inur-Ash stood with his eyes closed before a large granite table upon which several vials, flasks and herbs were placed. Surrounding him around several steps away were also other identical granite tables, except that the cauldrons were set atop a flame and were either being monitored or mixed by a person each.