Profanity Heralds Discovery is an introductory piece of fiction for Silkgift: The City of Sails, one of the supplements for Cities of Sundara, which is available in versions for 5th Edition and Pathfinder.

The shout was a combination of frustration and surprise. It wasn’t followed by an explosion, or a cry of pain, though, so it clearly wasn’t an emergency. Taggart put his tools down, took off the protective lenses he wore and ambled across the hall with his bow-legged stride. The night was dragging on, and the other workshops had emptied out for the night. It seemed that only he and his neighbor were burning moonlight oil, as the saying went. The dwarf rapped his heavy knuckles on the door frame of the workshop, and peered in.

“Everything all right, Ella?” he asked.

“I’ve still got all my fingers and toes, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ella replied. The dark-haired halfling was sitting on the work bench, her head in her hands and her feet dangling.

Taggart stepped over the threshold, taking in the scene. Ella’s workspace had the messy look of a well-loved kitchen, where the clutter had a thread of rhyme and reason to it if one tilted their head and squinted. Her burner had been banked, and on top of it was an iron pot filled with some kind of thick, viscous goop. It smelled like bone meal and sawdust, with a hint of potpourri.

“Bad result?” Taggart asked.

“I bumped the dried spider silk threads with my elbow,” Ella said. “Caught the bottle, but not before half of it spilled in.”

Taggart wrinkled his nose as a bubble burst in the gloop, releasing a puff of strangely scented air. He rubbed his mustache, smoothing it down over his lip. Ella blew out a long breath, moving her hands to the sides of her head, rubbing at her temples.

“There’s something somebody once told me that might be good to keep in mind, Ella,” Taggart said.

“What’s that?” the halfling asked, her eyes closed as she tried to stave off a headache.

“Profanity heralds discovery,” Taggart said, chuckling.

Ella looked up at him. Her expression was less than pleased. “Chalk it out for me? I’m not in a mood for riddles.”

Taggart glanced at the experiment again. He pursed his lips, drawing his thumb over his mustache again. When he was sure Ella was listening, not just humoring him, he smiled at her.

“Just because something you made doesn’t do what you want doesn’t make it useless. So think about that before you toss it in the midden heap and start over.” Taggart yawned, covering his mouth with his fist. “I was at a good breaking point anyway. You want to split a pot of dark?”

“Pretty sure I’m going to need it,” Ella said.

Taggart nodded, clumping back the way he’d come. Ella could hear him filling his kettle, and spooning out the strong tea he kept in a can. She glanced over at the thick glop her experiment had become, and frowned at it. She lifted the stirring stick, and watched as the liquid slowly dripped from the tip.

Was there something she could do with it after all?