The Alchemist of Middlesbrooke: A Tale of Realmgard

By J.B. Norman

So, a Wilderling, a Half-Troll Amazon, and an Aurorean sorceress walk into a coffeehouse...

The three female adventurers Lucia, Apolline and, Petra have recently arrived in the city of Middlesbrooke but haven't had much luck finding work yet. Luckily, when a certain musclebound Alchemist walks into their lives, things may finally be starting to turn around for our three brave heroines.

Or not.

What the Alchemist of Middlesbrooke has in muscles, he definitely lacks in brains.

But Lucia, Apolline and, Petra aren't the kind of people to refuse someone in need of help, even an idiot. So off they go on this new adventure with Roland, the Alchemist of Middlesbrooke and his little sister Alda. Meanwhile, Alveric von Strom, a proud man driven to vexation is resolved to make their lives very, very difficult.

Join all-new cast of characters in this latest Realmgard adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.B. Norman
• Release date: Jul 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215416839

J.B. Norman

J.B. Norman lives in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada, where he pretty much lives and breathes writing. When he is not writing his own books, he is editing books written by somebody else. He wanted to write a book since he was about nine years old; upon discovering that "Viking" was no longer a viable career option, he finally sat down and did it.

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The Alchemist of Middlesbrooke

A Tale of Realmgard

www.realmgard.com

Published by J.B. Norman at Smashwords.

Copyright 2023 J.B. Norman.

Cover Art & Design Copyright 2023 Joel Balkovec.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, and events are either products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously.

Smashwords Edition.

Thank you for downloading this ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied, and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to your favourite ebook retailer to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

To the best friends I’ve had in a long time.

Chapter 1

Lucia Tormalina would like to tell you about the Duchy of Middlesbrooke. Middlesbrooke likes to flaunt to anyone and everyone the fact that it is a remarkable city — well, technically, city-state.

Middlesbrooke is very rich, very old and very proud of that fact, and especially proud of the fact that the Duchy is the successor to Emperor Theobald’s mighty empire, which ruled over most of Realmgard centuries ago. The people of Middlesbrooke are quick to point out that the city’s reigning Dukes can trace their lineage all the way back to Theobald himself, which is why all of the Dukes add ‘Theobald’ to their names — Lucia can only assume they’re up to Duke Theobald the Eight-Millionth, or so.

Lucia shifts uneasily, furry ears twitching restlessly. Every single Middlesbrookian — or Middlesbrookite, or Middlesbrookigonian, or whatever — is staring at her. She can feel the never-ending stares so vividly that they’re actually making her itchy. It’s like the people in Middlesbrooke have never seen a Wilderling before! But, Lucia reflects, she hasn’t seen many other Wilderlings since coming to Middlesbrooke, so maybe they haven’t seen a Wilderling before.

I hate it here, she mutters to herself.

Lucia grew up on a waterlemon farm in Natalis, miles from anywhere important, in a small, quiet village no-one has ever heard of — exactly the kind of place that Middlesbrooke isn’t. Even after travelling with Apolline and Petra for so long, she still doesn’t like visiting big cities. And Middlesbrooke is a big city. That hates her and won’t stop staring at her and is just making her itchy and grumpy.

Capitolina help her, she’s starting to miss life on the waterlemon farm.

She misses her parents. She misses her grandparents. She misses peering into the depths of the sacred well in the centre of town, trying to catch a glimpse of Saint Artemio’s sword, flung into the water after renouncing his former life as a warrior and adopting the life of a holy hermit.

She misses learning more than she ever wanted to know about the history of waterlemons. She’d be out in the fields with her father or grandfather, and they’d go on and on about how waterlemons first came into being after an ancient wizard’s botanical experiments went awry. The Emperor enjoyed the taste of a watermelon-magically-crashedinto-a-lemon, and waterlemons went on to become one of Natalis’ most widespread crops.

She’d even miss people asking, ‘Don’t you mean watermelons?’ — except that never stopped.

Can we go inside? Please? Lucia asks the other two.

Petra glances back at her, one eye obscured by her long, unkempt red hair. Is something wrong, Lucia? she asks.

Everyone is staring at us, Lucia says. You must have noticed it, right?

Petra nods. But unless they’re getting ready to ambush us, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, she assures Lucia.

People tend to stare at Petra wherever they go, no matter what. She sticks out even more than a Wildering does. Petra is big and blue and dressed in Amazon armour, like a big chunk of a mountain that uprooted itself one day, then decided it needed better protection for its midsection. Being half-Troll and half-Amazon, she’s a rare sight. Even Petra herself has only ever met a handful of others like her.

We’re almost there, Apolline says from the head of their group.

The sorceress is the only one in their trio who looks like she belongs in Middlesbrooke, with her elegant looks and fancy clothing. Her long blonde is hair gleaming and meticulously combed-out beneath her fashionable beret, that one lone curl always strikingly falling down her forehead in the most aesthetically-pleasing fashion possible. Her clothes always look perfect, no matter what trouble they’ve gotten into lately. Or what horrible thing has recently tried to eat them.

As a noblewoman, Apolline is rich and important, and at least as elegant and dignified as any of the rich, important people from Middlesbrooke. The only hint that she’s a long way from home is the faint Aurorean accent that colours her words when she speaks. The fact that she can blend it so easily makes Lucia a little jealous. Itchy and jealous. Apolline fits in just fine as long as she’s quiet. Unlike Petra, who’s fifty-seven feet tall and blue, or Lucia, who has her own accent, a tail, and a pair of big, furry ears.

Here we are, Apolline declares, leading them around a street corner. Great-Uncle — Oh. Oh my.

"We came all the way here for this?" Lucia exclaims.

Amid the towering spires and impressive facades of Middlesbrooke’s architecture, the old house sticks out just as much as Lucia, Petra, and Apolline do. Most of the buildings in Middlesbrooke are old in the same way the ancient statues back home in Natalis are — venerable and majestic.

But this