Log for Tenebrae

-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A07: Lower Alexandria Market District *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-
Just west of the Northern Highbridge and east of the arena, commerce blooms. Noisy and

bustling, most anything may be purchased here for a price. Vendors from all cultures sell their wares

from exotically colored carts, and the smells of different nations and far-off city-states mix with

local ones from Alexandria and its riverbanks.

For all its commerce, visitors are advised to keep hold of their purses. Even the merchants

possess a certain, cunning look. Most are positioned at carts or stalls as opposed to a formal

storefront, with trade here being mobile, and visiting from all parts of the world.

Though the quality of goods suffers here compared to Upper Alexandria, the options are more

diverse. Too, the oversight of the Watch is slightly less, and during times events are held at the

Arena, chaos abounds. After dark, the square becomes a hangout for bards and other entrepreneurs whose

business is best conducted by night; the shadows at the edges of the square often contain furtive

figures engaging in their own brand of business.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Walery A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray. 0s 11m
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Craft's Crafts (CC) Anvilclang Smithy (AS) Prestigious Moon (PM)
Fernwood Pub (FP) West (W) Bridge (NE)
South (S)
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A07: Anvilclang Smithy *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Down a quiet side alley, a large shield hangs in front of an unassuming shop. Formerly "Under

Lock and Key," it appears the shop is under new management. The front door opens with the chime of a

small silver bell on an array of locks, locking devices and keys. On the left hand side an assortment

of metal shields of all types. On the right there is a set of display armor, and several historical

smithing tools arranged thoughtfully on the wall. Straight across at the other end of the hardwood

floor is a worn counter with a workbench behind it, though its polish is now influenced by soot. One

can see the smithy just behind, a half-room over; and feel its heat.
EXTRAS: +view
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Walery A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray. 0s 11m
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out (O)
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Mick Walery is an Acanian human standing 5'9", with an average build and average looks, and who

is, overall, pretty average-looking. Medium-brown hair, dark eyes, clean-shaven, he could be anyone in

a crowd. A closer look will see some wiry toughness in his build, though, and a mania in his eyes that

speaks of ancient things man was not meant to know. He wears a conservative dark-green tunic under a

brown waist-length coat, and a mail shirt over that. His coat collar overhangs the neck of the mail

shirt, and seems to have a simple pin on the collar. His pants are heavy, and match the shade of the

coat, with a heavy black leather belt that has several pouches, with an inch-thick cross strap over his

left shoulder. His boots are brown leather, and are knee-high, with fancy stitching. His death ray,

when idle, is slung across his chest from a strap around his neck and one shoulder. The death ray looks

a bit like a thunderbelcher, but with jeweled silver fittings and a complex sight on top, with a

polished wood stock. What looks like a rectangular box of some unknown gray material is worn like a

backpack. It has several small yellow and red gems set in a row, and woven metal cables connect it to

his death ray. He wears a thunderbelcher on its own strap over his shoulder.

Erendriel has arrived.

Erendriel is a young half-Llyranesi woman. Characteristically fair skin almost glows in the

right light, contrasting with her long hair. That hair is mostly black, except for tips which grow pale

are a faint red at the tip, and tied in a simple ponytail behind her pointed ears. In front, her red-

fringed bangs are held back by delicately-engraved silver circlet.

Definitely shorter than the average human, barely five feet tall, she was not endowed with size

from her human side. Her build is also very slim, apart from hips keeping her from that dreaded

'boyish' tag. Her eyes are a golden color, fiery bright, and her pink lips have a brightness of their

own without any adornment. Her nose small but her mouth slightly large.

Her clothing shows the rewards of time spent in danger: wide, round goggles strapped across her

forehead and brown boots are her primary accessories. Fitted somewhat trimly on her body is a

shimmering silk gown, covering her in a blazing red-orange sheen from neck down, leaving her calves

exposed from the knee, and her arms from the elbow to her beige calfskin gloves. The gown is held in

place simply by a leather belt with a large, silver buckle.

Over the gown on her torso is a chain shirt made of fine links of mithral. On her back is often

a red-dyed leather backpack. When her sleeves allow it, a scar in the shape of a snowflake is visible

on the inside of her right upper arm.

Carrying:
MyLists

Walery is in his smithy, which is newly set up, and contains, rather than the usual anvil and furnace

type arrangements, some rather .... innovative things. First of all, the furnace has glowing gems in a

line, just at eye level, and the lefthand 5 of them are illuminated from within. There are dials just

below that. The open mouth of the furnace has a heavy played door in front of it, which keeps in the

heat, though. The anvil seems normal, but there are mehcnanical arms hanging above it from the ceiling

with grippers on the ends. And ... it must be a hammer, but it looks like it's mounted in a tube.

Erendriel is still relatively new to this place, and sometimse just explores things for no particular

reason. Seeing a 'new' shop, she steps in, gawking at the furnace quietly. If noticed, she'll give a

quiet wave.

Walery doesn't notice Erendriel's arrival, exactly, but there's a bell on the door that dings as it

opens, and a row of gems along each wall that light at the tone. The light gets his attention, as the

smithy's mechanisms are a bit loud. The sounds are muffled out in the custimer area, but there's a bit

of noise as Walery opens the door and exits the workshop out into the customer area, closing the door

behind him. "Ah, hello, good morning," he greets.

Erendriel points to the gems and the unusual structure, what with the glowing. "Hi, was curious.. what

is that?" she asks with a smile.

Mikilos has arrived.

Mikilos is a slender male Dawn Elf, freakishly tall by elven standards, standing a full head over the

average human. His ivory skin and long blonde hair hold a rosy warmth, as if dappled in spring

sunshine, even when such light is not present. His hazel eyes are deep set, and spark with curiousity.

His hands are long and nimble, but hold callus and stain from long use in craft.

He is dressed in a simple Grey robe, of a simple cut, unadorned with decoration. It is however a

strange, almost painfully Neutral Grey. His waist is defined by a simple leather belt, from which a

scroll case hangs upon one side, a well-used scabbard on the other. Both trousers and boots are simple,

black, and practical. An occasional cloak guards against the weather or dust. Upon his brow sits a

simple circlet of silver, set with a small stone which shifts from blue to violet, depending on the

light.

Walery hrms? "Oh, those are to let me know what the temperature is inside the furnace. It's quite

important to have it just right for whatever your forging, and different metals need different

temperatures. Adamantium needs it so hot that all the gems would be lit. Mithral takes," he points to a

gem 3/4 of the way along, "to here. Regular steel uses this setting," he points to the currently

illuminated gem.

Walery is showing Erendriel some artificery bits he's used to upgrade a forge used to heat metal for

his work. He's developed a series of glow-gems to show what the temperature is in the heat of his

furnace.

Erendriel grips her backpack straps tightly, looking toward where the gems are set on the furnace. "Oh

very interesting. So that's... some sort of magical device that controls the heat?" she asks with a

smile. "I've never seen something like that before."

Mikilos enters quietly. Or as quietly as one can manage with the door chime. Smiling, the wizard takes

a glance around, nodding greeting to the pair chatting. "Good morning."

Walery nods to Erendriel, "Oh, it's quite new. I invented it." He nods. "The gems don't control it,

though, the control is this dial here," he gestures, "I can turn up or down the heat. The gems just

read out the temperature." The door chime is accompanied by small flashing gems along the wall in the

workspace itself, in case it's too loud to hear. Walery looks up and smiles to Mikilos, "Good morning,

sir! And how are you this morning?"

Erendriel looks to the arriving Mikilos, and waves to him, as her attention is focused on the furnace.

"A dial? Very interesting. Controlling the temperature like that, instead of putting... fuel on a fire?

That must have been hard to do."

Mikilos nods again to Walery, eyeing the furnace somewhere between curious and wary. "Well enough.

Looking for some mithril flux, my own supply got wet." He returns the wave to Erendriel, his own focus

on the machine as well. "What sort of system work with the dial? A spell or some sort of slotted fuel

intake?"

Walery nods to Erendriel, and he says, "In fact, this is a mana-fueled furnace, and the dial controls

how quickly the mana is used. How quickly the fuel is consumed, in turn, controls the temperature.

Doing the same with coal would have been much more complicated." He ohs to Mikilos, "Ah, sure!" He'll

go over to a locker built into one wall. Built quite solidly into it. Like meant-to-contain-explosions

solidly. He opens the lock, pulls back a bolt, slide a lever, and opens the heavy door, which when it

opens is revealed to be a foot thick and layered sheets of various materials. He fetches a bottle with

a paper label from a stack of half a dozen, steps out of the locker, closes the door (failing to reset

all the sealing levers) and will pass the bottle to Mikilos.

(OOC) Walery says, "Perception checks?"
GAME: Erendriel rolls perception: (7)+8: 15
GAME: Mikilos rolls perception: (1)+17: 18 (EPIC FAIL)

Both of you notice the fine reddish dust in piles in the vault, on several of the shelves.

Erendriel looks for a place to lean, some piece of armor. "I um," she giggles. "Mana. That's all very

interesting. What's that, um, red stuff, I'm curious as well? Sorry for all the questions..." she

babbles a bit, just in a casual, chipper mood.

Mikilos watches with casual intrest, his focus on the bottle and it's contents. The elf takes a few

moment to carefully eye them, cautiously unstoppering the bottle and waffing the fumes towards himself.

Treating the materials as dangerous, just in case. Satisified, he stopps the bottle again and tucks it

into a pouch, nodding to Erendriels question before adding his own. "What do i owe you?"

Walery huhs? "Red stuff?" Seems he hasn't noticed it, himself. Spacy Artificers. He opens the door

again, and makes a sort of ACK noise, taking a stunned step back. "My steel!" he cries. He'll step into

the vault to look more closely at the red powder. "Hrm." Mikilos's question is missed at first as he

investigates this. "What -is- this?" he wonders aloud. For the curious, it's a simple matter to step

past the counter and take a closer look.

Erendriel blinks and steps on through. "Oh no!" she gasps, popping on up a lot closer. "Did you get hit

by a rust monster or something?" she speculates, looking all around up and down, around, for such a

threat.

Mikilos nods in agreement. "Looks like rust at a glance. Though i've never heard of one hitting the -

inside- of a closed box." Curious, the wizard moves closer, eyeing the details.

(OOC) Walery says, "Perception checks again now that you're closer? Or Knowledge/dungeoneering?"
GAME: Mikilos rolls perception: (5)+17: 22
GAME: Mikilos rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (15)+14: 29

GAME: Erendriel rolls perception: (15)+8: 23

Certainly not a full-sized rust monster, there's no way something that size could get into a vault like

this undetected. But ... over there in the corner, is a gap the size of a mousehole, as if a mouse

could eat through layers of steel a foot thick. You both notice mouse-sized tracks in the rust.

You paged Mikilos with 'And you know that newly hatched rust monsters would be about that size.'

Erendriel bites her lip, and steps forward, pointing at the hole. "Um...." she says. "That... looks

like your problem."

Mikilos frowns thoughfully, eyeing the piles for a few moments. "It looks like the effects of a rust

monster, certainly, but they're quite large." He considers a moment. "I suppose one could get shrunk

down with a spell easy enough." He blinks. "Or a hatchling! They don't tend to wander, but if one was

hungry enough, certainly could have caused this sort of mess." He considers a moment, and gestures to

one of the piles of rust. "May I?"

Walery ehs to Erendriel, "Mice?" he asks. "That's got to be the most butch mouse ever to eat through my

vault walls. We get them occasionally, but normally in the kitchens," he complains. "But the real

problem is going to be patching the hole," he goes off on a tangent. "I have to cut down the layers,

reforge the plates, and re-weld it back together. That'll take -weeks-," he groans. Mikilos's comment

is met with a "Huh? Sure?"

Erendriel backs up as Mikilos suggests he's going to do a thing. "I wouldn't just patch it... nto

without handling whatever that was. Or.. it's just going to eat it again, right?"

Mikilos steps foreward, and touches his fingertips lightly to one of the piles, murmuring softly under

his breath. Fingertips and pile glow for a moment, as power and Order are returned, negating

destruction, returning the item to it's previous form. "Ah good... hrmm, suppose I should have asked if

any item in particular was significant, but I wasn't certain that would work."

GAME: Mikilos casts Make Whole. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20

Walery nods to Erendriel, "You're right, of course, but I -do- have to patch it eventually, also." Or

he could ask a wizard to use magic, which seems altigether much more efficient. "Oh!" he gasps as a

fair amount of the steel is restored and the hole in the vault is utterly gone. "Er, thank you very

much!" he says to Mikilos.

Erendriel folds her arms, looking at how it works. "Hopefully patching the hole doesn't um, you know,

make it harder to track where they came from..." She then steps out of the vault, to try to go around

from the side...

Mikilos nods. "No problem. Though you have a point, likely should have found the thing first... I'm -

assuming- it's a baby rust monster, but that's really just speculation... they aren't typically

malicious, you know. Just hungry. Can be quite playful when properly trained and well fed."

Walery winces at the idea of training and feeding a rust monster. "I'll get a cat, I think," he says.

As far as finding the thing, he says, "I'm thinking that if I add a layer of wood to the outside of the

vailt. Or stone, maybe, that'll stop rust monsters. It's on a stone foundation, so that side's safe."

Erendriel stands outside, viewing very side of the vault she can, trying to see where it might have

come from. "That must be scary, having one of those around if your whole business is metal..."

Mikilos nods. "If it's an option, I'd go stone. I'm not sure how strong they are, but I know they can

be relentless when they smell metal. If you have any scrap, might lay that out as a bait or

distraction. let it eat that rather than go after your good stuff. Of course, you start feeding it, and

you've got a pet rust monster, want one or not."

Walery agrees with Erendriel, "Yes, that would certainly wreck my business. Slow as it is. I had

thought that warriors would be lining up to have armor forged. I can undercut the fellows out there,"

he gesstures to the Market District outide, "by a fair amount. But I've had no customer so far. I

thought every warrior and paladin would want plate armor." He sighs at misguessing his market. He

listens with horror as Mikilos explains about the consequences, and he nods about stone. "Yes, a

regular mouse could eat through the wood, and then I'd be vulnerable again. Stone sounds like a good

option." Luckily for him, all the metal tools and machines were not as tasty for the rust monster as

the vault of exotic metals and the rich, pure steel inside.

Erendriel bites her lip. "Yeah, I don't know anything about that. I only just very recently learned how

to wear really any armor at all, and how to wear it without messing me up." She taps her chain shirt.

Mikilos grins. "I'm not an armored type. Or rather, my robes are enchanted with all the armor I

typically use. I do forging myself, though tend towards blades, and there is a market, but it's not

stable or steady. As the colder months set in, the merchant caravans will hole up and the guards who

have been watching them will look towards upgrading their gear, so you'll get a little better business

then."

Walery eyes Erendriel's chain shirt, and he nods. "I -do-, as it happens, have a machine for extruding

wire. I've added a roller and a cutter, and I'm working on an autimated assembler for making chain link

mail. I could definitely make armor like that cheaper than any of the armorers in the district," he

confirms. He ohs as Mikilos shares his market experience, and nods gravely. "Well, it will be good if

business turns up," he agrees.

Erendriel grins to Walery. "Awesome. Wish I had like, ran into you before I got this. I totally had to

pay full market price." She sighs and shrugs. "Oh well. Do you do enchantments?" Then gesturing toward

Mikilos. "I got the robe from his shop."

Mikilos frowns. "It's likely still close... I might be able to find it. I'm not sure this will work,

but worth a shot." The mage takes a moment to focus, the wraps one hand around the amulet at his neck,

the metal glowing softly for a moment as arcane power flows though it. The wizard stills his thoughts,

then sends them out, seeking, looking for other thought waves. Two sharp skipes of mental energy,

close, totally expected. Futher out, small thoughts of hunger, fear, sleep, primal needs. Grain... just

a mouse. Seek further, ranging upward. Hide. Watch. A perfectly normal ninja in the rafters. Further.

Safety, sleep, nest. A pigeon roosting on the roof. Lower then, seeking, exploring, hunger. Fear.

Curiousity. Fear. Stone, close by, hunger, metal. Tunnel. Hide. Damp. A drain.

Mikilos half opens his eyes, and slowly makes his way across the shop to a simple drain spout in the

floor. Peering a moment, he suddenly stomps, hard, next to the opening. A frantic scrabbeling can be

heard inside, rapidly moving away.

Walery grins to Erendriel, and he says, "Well, now you know, at least. Though given you've gotten the

mithral kind already, you probably won't be upgrading ever. But if it needs repairs, bring it by." He

shakes his head about enchantments. "This city is crawling with enchanters. I could never complete. I

thought I had a niche with the forging, though." He watches as Mikilos does the magic thing, and at the

stomp and scribbling. "Oh! Well!" He thinks a bit more. "Maybe some sort of slime in the drains will

keep them clear," he muses.

Erendriel nods to Walery, and smiles. "Yeah, I really doubt I'll be able to wear more than this ever,

and still do what I do..." Turning to Mikilos. "Oh. Did you find something?"
Mikilos nods to Walery. "Lemon slices, maybe? Humanoids like the scent, but most animals don't. And a

solid wooden plug, at least for a few days. I got the firm impression the drain was already tight, soon

would be too big to get through. I'll let the Watch know about it. Rust monsters aren't exactly native

to the city, so is likely someone already looking for it. A lost pet, or familiar, or something." He

nods to Erendriel. "It was hiding in the drain, I doubt could have lured it out without sacrificing

something, so easier to scare away."

Walery ahhs to Erendriel, nodding slowly. To Mikilos, he says, "Hang on." he'll go to a cabinet on the

side and pull out his death ray. It looks a bit like a rifle, but with brass and gems and sparkly

fittings and couplings. He aims it into the drain, loads it up with a glowing shell, and pulls the

trigger. A flash of fire backblasts a few inches back, and the rest shoots into the drain. FIRE. That's

Walery's other specialty. "That ought to clear out the drain," he says.

GAME: Walery casts Burning Hands. Caster Level: 6 DC: 15

Erendriel claps at the rush of the burning hands spell. "Oh that's great," she giggles, giving a little

hop. "You need any more of that?"

Mikilos frowns mildly, but shrugs. "Burning sewer gook seldom ends with a good smell. Lemons are much

prefered. But, should work, and if it was still anywhere close, I very much doubt will care to face

that in any way."

Walery nods gravely, "If it survived, it will not be coming back, I think. But definitely lemons," he

agrees. He smiles to Erendriel and says, "I think that if one shot didn't fix it's little red wagon,

another wouldn't do much good." He'll put his death ray up and close that cabinet. "Thank you so much,"

he says to Mikilos. "I don't know what I would have done withhout your help."

Erendriel giggles. "Yes, Mikilos is very good at his magic." she nods, folding her arms. "It's a good

thing that, um, he could fix so many things."

Mikilos smiles, and shrugs. "I like fixing things. I like making things. I like magic. So fixing things

with magic is something I've done a fair bit and have become rather good at. Any case, I likely so head

around to the alley, see if can spy anything of note, then go to the Watch. Doubtful, but might be some

poor little kzhad girl missing her pet."

Walery tries to imagine a khazad child with the sort of pet that eats her parents home. "It'd have to

have like a wooden cage or something," he muses, off track comletely now.

Erendriel hums, and folds her arms again. "Well, good luck getting that much stone wrapped around your

stuff. That would be heavy. I hope you have magic you can use for that..."

Mikilos ponders a moment. "I think they use a hemp leash and leather harness, but honestly not sure.

Anycase, I'd best be off. Fare well!"

Mikilos has disconnected.

Walery ohs to Erendriel, and he says, "Oh, it won't be one sheet of stone. That -would- be too hard.

But a layer of bricks or stones would achieve the same effect, I think. And bricklaying is fairly

straightforward." To Mikilos, he says, "That's .... fascinating." In a disturbing sort of way. He's

completely forgotten the mithral flux, but the spellcasting more than covers that cost in any event.

Erendriel goes OOC.

-Later that day-

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A02: Old Clunk's Junkyard *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

If you're around Alexandria long enough, you would hear about Clunk's. Run by one of the

oldest functional golems in Alexandria and his crew, some of whom are mechanical and some of whom are

meat, Old Clunk's Junkyard resembles a cross between a tumbled-over mechanical morass from a gnomish

birthday party and the spilled-over contents of a Kulthian closet, preserved from a bygone era. Scraps

of metal, gears, canisters, and parts of every description appear tossed into piles between the metal-

and-broken-wood fences.

A few ramshackle buildings jut upwards from the piles, not unlike jagged teeth. Each has a

purpose. Some are built closed and some are plain, open-sided cataloguing or welding sheds; if not for

the painted murals on their sides, it might be hard to tell them from the junk piles.

To those who know what they're looking for, though, this place is less a junkyard than a

treasure trove. Old Clunk finds everything an artificer or artifice-born could want, and has a keen eye

for quality. The random piles are actually neatly classified by a complex system. Any artifice-ready

part imaginable might just be somewhere in one of them. There's always someone around to help; if the

crew is busy, there's always a few war golems around; the area would appear to be a congregation point.

There's even an oil barrel and dipping cups around, as if their presence is welcomed.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Pelka Egalrin Artificer. SKREE! 9s 47m
Skribbles A Goblin Cleric, green skin and orange hair. 6s 4h
Walery A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray. 0s 1h
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out (O)
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Skribbles

The Goblin standing in front of you rises to a proud 3 ft. in height. Her skin is a light shade of

green in color, with hair of bright orange that sits in a top knot above her head before falling in a

pony-tail down to the middle of her back. Bright orange-yellow eyes sit in pools of white in wide

almond-shaped eyes that are angled slightly. Her pert nose ends in a blunt point on her face, a gold

nosering on the right nostril. It sits above a wide-mouth with one fang sticking out over the left side

of light blue painted lips. Large pointed ears extend out, with the tips extending above her head.

There are several small loop earrings piercing the ears all the way down to the lobes. She is currently

wearing the vestments announcing this young woman as a Priest of Reos. It is a worker's outfit of grey

with an a blacksmith's apron of red on top. Various tools of the blacksmith's trade line the looks and

pockets of her clothes and aprons, something for almost any occasion. Tall boots of black complete the

outfit, scuffed slightly from someone who works hard in the forge.

Pelka
Pelka is an Egalrin, an amalgamation of man and bird. His build is lean and graceful in his

limbs but becomes more powerful in his shoulders and upper torso. His head features a predatory beak

and eyes that face forward. Pelka's hands end in long slender talons while his feet are tipped with

broader more sturdy claws. Feathered wings sprout from his upper back between his shoulders. These are

normally folded but look to span perhaps 12 feet when spread. The feathers start dark brown but lighten

in color towards the tips, until they are nearly white. The feathers above his eyes and those set

behind his beak are stark white. On the very top of his head are a few red-tipped feathers almost like

a mohawk.
Pelka wears a chain shirt that protects his upper body while leaving his limbs and

particularly his wings unencumbered. His legs are covered in leather breaches, slightly loose and held

up with a compartment-lined utility belt, with similar bandolier-style belts criss-crossing his chest.

Clunky metal boots cover his lower legs while leaving the bottoms and tips of his feet uncovered. Thin

goggles cover his eyes, the strap dyed to match the color of his feathers.

Skribbles thinks for a moment and says, "Ya know what...I think it's just gonna be for ridin'.

Sometimes you make a machine for fightin' and it just seems to want to fight you in the end." She

shakes her head and sighs, "Just want something where I don't have to brush it a hundred times a

day...or feed it...or watch it poop."

Pelka bobs his head with smaller motions as Skribbles explains. "Sounds like it is going to be one more

wonder in the skies of Alexand--" he suddenly halts. He turns to look at Skribbles. "Wait, did you say

it would be a flying creature?"

Walery comes into the jukyard, looking around. He's after something, a bit more mundane rather than

artificery. He wanders into the conversation, throws a wave absently. and continues perusing.

Skribbles shakes her head, "Oh no...nononononono...this Gobbo stays her feet on the ground if she can

help it." She points up to the sky and says, "If Gobbos were meant to be in the sky, we'd have wings."

She points towards Pelka and smiles, "Like you got there." She looks at Walery and steps aside to let

him peruse.

Pelka's feathers seem to droop slightly. But he picks up with only a bit less enthusiasm than before.

"One more wonder on the -streets- of Alexandria," he finishes. Then he turns towards Walery, and raises

a taloned hand to wave. "Afternoon."

Walery offers, "Good afternoon," to the both of them. "Did someone say something about flying? Only I

have some very advanced plans for creating a flying adaptation to my armor. It's quite clever," he

claims.

Skribbles points at the Elgar, "He's talking about flying, and I'm talking about building a mechanical

riding-machine. He thought I was going to put it into the air, but then that would be up in the air and

I don't go up there if I can help it." She shakes her head and stomps on the ground, "This is where

Gobbos belong."

Pelka twitches his head with an avian jerk to look at Walery. "Flying adaptation for your armor...?" he

blink-blinks. "Now that is an interesting idea. I don't even wear armor," he fans his wings

subconcuously. "Too heavy for me, even after I tried to use mithral for the core materials..."

Walery nods about flying for his armor. "An airfoil and propulsion system would ... but oh, that's not

why I'm here. I'm looking for bricks or stone to put around a strongroom. Do you have such a thing

here?"

Skribbles points around and laughs, "This is Old Clunk's junkyard. If he ain't got it, then nobody

does." She then looks around for a moment, as though trying to point Walery in the right direction

before she sighs, "I dunno if he has it."

Pelka cackles. "I haven't found much stone here," he admits. "In fact the only time I can remember, it

was because it was attached to some metal superstructure someone had dumped...er, I mean donated." He

peers at Walery. "Why a stone strongbox? Why not metal?"

Walery nods to Skribbles, and says to Pelka, "Oh, it's got quite a lot of metal already. Rust monsters

find it tasty, unfortunately, so I'm protecting my vault."

Skribbles nods her head, "Gotta watch out for those rust monsters." She holds up her basket and smiles

widely, showing off her fangs. "Speaking of which, I gotta get this stuff back to the temple. Have a

great day." She heads out, singing a song about staying on the ground that she just made up.

Pelka reaches down and pulls out...an empty tin can. He looks like he's about to toss it aside but then

holds it at his own waist. He rotates it to angle it in one direction and then another. He

subconciously leans his own body in response, like it is actually a rocket propelling him in different

directions. "I've seen another artificer make a contraption that made him fly," Pelka explains. "It

only lasted a few minutes, though." He mimes the can detaching and falling away. Then he blinks, coming

back to the present.

Walery thinks about the dropaway rocket idea, and says, "You know. That's quite a clever idea,

actually. Do you mind terriby if I use that? I think that will solve the problem of hot, spent rockets

causing burns," he explains.

Pelka looks surprised. "Yes of course - it wasn't my idea anyway!" he seems amused at the thought. Then

he tilts his head to one side. "Dropaway rockets for your armor? I suppose that's one approach. When

you first mentioned flying, I was thinking of wings, possibly a propellor like some of the airships..."

Walery says, "Oh, there will be wings. For steering, at least," he explains. "But I'm looking for

something a bit more dynamic, you know. My mentor, when I was a student at the Academy, had this idea

for a group of airborne artificers who could supplement an army with mobile firepower. I'm working on

that plan."

Pelka makes a cluckling noise. "Artificers in an army? That sounds like a..." he searches for the right

word. Bizarre? Hysterical? Terrifying?" "...interesting." he finally settles on, "An interesting idea.

I don't think I've heard of one before," he concludes. "Not in modern times, anyway."

Walery nods about an interesting idea. "I've tried to focus on things that are useful to soldiers in my

own studies," he explains. "But there were no others, as you say, that were interested in

participating." He'll wander off in search of bricks.

-Scene fades-

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A07: Anvilclang Smithy *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Down a quiet side alley, a large shield hangs in front of an unassuming shop. Formerly "Under

Lock and Key," it appears the shop is under new management. The front door opens with the chime of a

small silver bell on an array of locks, locking devices and keys. On the left hand side an assortment

of metal shields of all types. On the right there is a set of display armor, and several historical

smithing tools arranged thoughtfully on the wall. Straight across at the other end of the hardwood

floor is a worn counter with a workbench behind it, though its polish is now influenced by soot. One

can see the smithy just behind, a half-room over; and feel its heat.
EXTRAS: +view
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Erendriel A short, fair ball of fire 10s 10h
Kaydin A young man in his early twenties, with blonde hair c 4m 4h
Munch Dreadlocked golem with metal scales. 6m 45m
Walery A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray. 0s 45m
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out (O)
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Erendriel