[ This is Heidelstrass (not Spinal Tap). Supposedly it's a small mining town newly cut in to the southwestern arm of the Swordedge Range near the coast, where men who are willing to put up with backbreaking work can come to seek a fortune. ] [ Well, that's what they SAY, but the truth is it's in some areas no better than a shanty town. Mining men don't ask for much. That said, the local tavern is predictably the best-kept building in town. Wonder why? ] [ Said tavern is The Loose Screw, and it is where our intrepid engineers find themselves for whatever reason strikes them at this very moment! ] [ The place is actually pretty nice, for a bar that's typically full of rowdy miners. At the moment, though, it's 1pm and all the workers are actually in the mind, so it's quiet time. At the moment there's only a smattering of travellers having a meal before heading southeast to the trade roads. ] [ Game: start! ] (Pretend I said 'mine', not 'mind'.) (Yes, the workers are all out of their minds.) (Not entirely far from the truth.) (Background music, if you have it: "Perpetual Motion" -- Unlimited SaGa ost, disc 1 track 11) (nope) (If you're really interested in hearing it, I can post it somewhere.) (Also, nobody's saying or doing anything. ^_^:) (I'ma thinkin) * Magellan is sitting alone at a table a reasonable distance from the bar but fairly far away from the door. A few empty steins and one full one populate the table, and a five-foot wrench leans against it. Magellan himself is short, stocky, and sports an immense greying beard which obscures a good deal of his face. What you can see is an immense slightly hawked nose, and above it a pair of tiny glasses and a large brow. * Magellan is wearing a pair of oilstained blue coveralls, and has a blue stockingcap squeezed onto his head which just seems to make his hair angry. He's currently leaning back and engaged in negotiations with the one full stein. * Mark sits at bench conviently next to a table staring at what might be called a mug of ale. If he was better dressed disheveld might apply, but since he's not unshaven and uncombed will have to do. [ While you throw down what Mark has accurately described as "ale... probably", a young man, fairly handsome but in coveralls stained (like his face) with coal dust and grease, grabs a pint from a serving girl who seemed to know he was coming, then wanders off to find a table. He walks by Magellan's, then three paces past it stops and turns around, giving the old man a curious look. ] * Magellan finishes the stein with a minimum of overspill, then plunks it down on the table. "Ach, that's .. aye, well, 'tis passable." He looks up at the young man. * Mark pulls his glasses down over his eyes and peers at his drink before shrugging and downing half of it and then wiping his mouth on the sleave of his faded green shirt, "Mhm...on second thought, no, I couldn't etch with this." Somethin' I can help ye with? (You gave in, I see.) (Yes.) [ The man's face brightens when he hears Magellan speak, and he walks over and extends a hand. "You MUST be Magellan Drogg! Never heard that voice on anyone else, that's for sure." He beams. "I'm Leni, Micky's boy." ] * Mark pushes his glasses back up to watch Magellan and Leni, they seem more interesting than a game of 'guess what's in the beer.' * Magellan breaks into a wide grin. "Aye, I remember ye! Last I saw ye, ye were knee high te a grasshopper! Jes a wee little sprog." He scratches his beard. "How's yer old man? Has he perfected that quenching silver in an oil bath yet?" [ Leni has a seat, and turns a little sober for a minute. "Yeah... problem was, he tried to do a big batch job and ended up being the one in the oil bath, a few months back." The sadness doesn't last long. "But, that's the past. Now I'm working here and sending money back home to Ma." ] (Don't despair, Mark. I'm not going to leave you in the cold. ^_^) (Dun worry too much about it, I'm madly destrying my OS to make it load a pretty picture on startup :P) * Magellan frowns. "Ach, how sad. But still, it's good ye found work. Ye a miner, then?" [ He shakes his head. "Actually, I'm an engineer. I work on the line in the coal plant. The work's pretty boring but it pays good, so I don't complain. What brings you here?" ] Ah, more passin' through than anything. Some bit work around the place, mostly. [ Leni sips his beer. "Oh, really? Well, that's good news. I thought you were here hunting Selenium like that last bunch." He snickers. "I'd feel bad about being happy they're gone, but they were nasty bastards." ] (Okay. Some explanation: Selenium is VERY FAMOUS in Mullenwald and Solaria. It means "moon metal" and supposedly is the metal to end all metals. MOst people would kill for even a few grams of it. ] ( -]+) ) * Magellan raises his bushy eyebrow. "Selenium hunters, eh?" * Mark snorts. * Magellan shakes his head. "Give me a block 'o cold steel any day, lad. None o' this fancy stuff." [ He nods, giving Mark a curious look for a moment before turning back to Magellan. "Yep. A few mercenaries from the capital, and a Magister, of all things. They went into the abandoned first shaft up on Bearclaw Peak about two weeks ago. And haven't come back." ] (I've gotta go AFK for a bit) (Pause a sec anyway, so it's all good.) (While you're away: Magisters are 7+ year graduates of the academy in Stromgarde. They're highly respected wizards, and almost never leave the University unless it's something important.) (back) (Unpause!) * Magellan raises the other eyebrow, too. It's like squirrels moving on his face. "A Magister? Color me surprised, lad. Are ye sure?" [ Leni snorts as Mark did mere moments ago. "Nobody that full of himself and naive like a newborn could be anything but a Magister." ] Aye, sounds like a Magister a'right. * Mark shakes his head, but keeps on listening. * Magellan scratches his beard. "Gone missing, ye say?" [ Leni finishes his beer and stands up. "Supposedly he breezed into town with all them guards, saw Madame Teros, and the next day he was up into the mountains with the lot of 'em by 6am. Haven't seen any of 'em since." ] Eh? Madame who, now? [ "Teros. S'a Lockrider, she lives in that tent down the road. Supposedly she tells fortunes. The wives seem to like it so she doesn't go hungry." He pauses. "Actually, she passed me on the street yesterday and said 'A big wrench and a little wrench are coming'. Wonder what that meant." ] * Magellan blinks, then looks at his wrench leaning against the table. [ Leni starts for the door and turns around. "In any event, good to see ya. I've gotta get back on the line." ] * Mark scratches his chin, but he has no implemnt of torque ot look at. (to look at) * Magellan waves. "Take care, lad!" [ Leni makes his exit! More ale is had! Maybe! We're not sure it's really ale. ] (mhm, ale...probibly) * Magellan shifts in his seat, has more "ale", then looks over at Mark. (DunnoAle!) (Feel free to converse or idle for a few moments as per your desire. I have to AFK a sec.) * Mark is now looking for guidance in his second mug, but he doesn't seem to have found it yet. [ From outside, there is something approximating a *clank*, then a *thud*, then a series of rattling noises that SOUNDS like screws being shaked in a metal box. Then all is silent. ] * Magellan blinks and lookks up sharply. * Mark blinks, and mutters, "the hell?" as he runs outside. * Magellan tosses back the last of the DunnoAle, tosses a few coins on the table, picks up his wrench and a toolbox, then ambles outside. [ What you see outside is... well. A few wives with baskets of food or laundry watching what appears to be a very old pickup truck, for modern reference, but with reinforced metal wheels. 3 of them, precisely, as the lugnuts holding the fourth (the front driver's side) to the drive train have come undone, somehow, and so the truck is 75% off the ground, and 25% on it. The wheel lies forlornly horizontal on the ground nearby. ] * Magellan steps outside, then thunks down his wrench and leans on it. "Now that's what I'd call a real piece of work, there." * Mark nods, "Yes, yes it is. Although I could have sworn I had four wheels this morning." This yours, then, lad? [ A crowd is gathering. Kids are looking at the truck in what could marginally be defined as total awe, but people are afraid to come too close. ] Yep, all I've got in the world untill this damn wild goose chase is over...That magistrate is probibly going to find what he's looking for before I do." * Mark walks over to the kids and hunches down, "Allright, which one of you decided that I didn't need four wheels anymore?" Yer gonna need a hand, I wager, gettin' that back on. * Mark nods, but keeps watching the kids. [ The kids all shake their heads vigorously. A chorus of discordant "Not me!"s rings in your ears. ] * Mark stands and rubs his face, "of course, and none of you went crawling around in the back either?" * Magellan strides forward, and runs his hand over what would probably be the fender of the truck. [ Same treatment. One of the mothers looks a little affronted at the third degree and herds her kid off home. ] * Mark shakes his head, "Well, I hope whoever it was enjoys the show." * Mark then walks to the back of the truck and stands still listening for anything leaking. [ In perhaps the most fascinating turn of luck ever, nothing *appears* to be broken, leaking, or about to explode. ] You keep 'er in pretty good shape, lad. * Magellan pats the fender affectionately. "Nothin' broken inside 'er." Yeah, well... that's the good news anyway. * Mark falls silent, but there are several metalic clanks and scraping noises before he speaks again, "Where's that... I was looking for this.....no..." * Mark calls out the the front of the truck, "Wanna give me a hand back here? There's a jack in here...somewhere." Aye, jes a sec, lad. * Magellan plops the toolbox on a nearby handcart, which is also full of what most people would call junk, then joins Mark at the back of the van. (I'll leave it to Mark to describe his truck. ^_^) [The back of the truck is full of even more junk, larger more recognizeable bits include windmill blades, lengths of pipe, and several large cylnders bolted to the frame.] Faith, boy, ye collect more junk than I do. * Magellan peers around for the jack. * Mark snorts, "it was all something once, will be again." * Mark pulls out a threaded steel rod, "Well, if we get desperate..." * Mark sets it aside, and keeps looking. [ To speed this up slightly: Mark discovers, under a layer of spare parts, his jack! ] (woo) * Mark pulls it and an iron plate out, "Aha! Knew I hadn't taken it apart yet." I should think ye'd be careful of that. Seems important. * Magellan helps move the jack, if it is heavy. It is, but so is everthing else back there. * Mark accepts Mag's help and soon has the jack ontop of the plate and under the truck where it can do it's job or lifting. [where after a bit of work with a crank it does, unless the allmighty GM says otherwise] [ The engineers get their jack on! ] (Woo!) (Go us!) * Magellan helps, and definitely knows his way around machines. (Together, as father and son, they will rule the galaxy.) (Nah, that sounds like more trouble than it's worth.) * Magellan wipes his brow. "What be yer name, lad?" * Mark looks up from picking up the nut he just stepped on, "Mark, Mark Stephensen, that man called you Magellan right?" Aye. Magellan Drogg. Whereabouts ye from? * Mark points southwest, "That way a bit, you might have heard about the school my parents run." (*draws a mental map in his head* Uh...) *** Dicesuke (akodomakot@ip68-13-166-245.om.om.cox.net) has joined the channel (it's a very short bit) (Area Knowledge.) (Er, wait, damn. That only applies to each specialty, doesn't it?) (I didn't actually take AK: Swordedge. Want me to just try for a mind roll?) (Sure.) 2d8 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Magellan (2d8) and gets 6. (...wait, we're d6.) 2d6 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Magellan (2d6) and gets 9. (Course, I didn't make that one.) (Ehe. No, you've never heard of them.) Nay, lad, can't say as I have. *** Dicesuke has been kicked off the channel by Todd (Sayonara, you ASS.) Eh, I'm sure he'll be disapointed, but that's not my problem. This wheel on the other hand... [ It actually doesn't look that bad, to both your trained sets of eyes. A little applied torque to the lugnuts and it'll be on straight enough. ] * Magellan sets to one lugnut, assuming Mark'll go for one of the others. * Mark walks to the back of the truck an returns shortly with a much smaller wrench than the one that Mags (ab)uses. (*eyes his log* My EMPTY log. i don't suppose one of you is logging?) (I am.) (I log, but everything is timestamped) (and for the record I'm using a smaller wrench. ^_~) (That's fine. Can i get it after?) (sure) [ As you two set about your work, there's a cackling behind you. "Big wrench and little wrench meet by the horsetrough. Little Leni thought I was a crackpot!" ] * Magellan turns his head, presumably to see Madame Teros. * Mark turns all of himself around to see her. [ See her you do. The old crone behind you is bent over a walking stick and dressed in the flowing robes of a Lockrider, though hers are a dark grey rather than their ostensibly uniform white or black. She gives you both a grin that probably had all its teeth once but has since lost most of them. "Hoy there, gentles. Wheel trouble?" ] (We'll be wrapping up shortly, BTW.) Aye, right enough. * Mark nods. [ Her grin increases. "Well, you've got the wrenches to wrench it right, right?" She reaches inside her robe. "I thought since you came all this way, I'd give you both a little gift." ] * Magellan stays very still as she does so. * Mark shrugs, "Oh?" [ She produces two enamel plaques, roughly the size of large playing cards. She hands the first to Mark, and it depicts a man with a walking stick and pack heading into the distance. The bottom is labeled 'I. The Fool'. She hands another to Magellan, which depicts an old man holding a sword and a latern looking into the distance; it's marked 'X. The Hermit'. "Enjoy, gentles. Maybe I'll see you again someday." ] [ Before return comment can be made, she's off and down the street, cackling like a loon. ] (Ahh! I'm Jin!) * Magellan blinks, then looks at his card. "The Hermit, eh?" (Small note: your world has no such thing as the tarot. These are just so much art to you.) * Magellan flips it over. "Wonder what the hell it is." [ The back is just a pretty pattern; a Celtic knot design if you know of such things. ] * Mark holds his up, "a sign that I'm not the only one who thinks I'm a fools errand." Ye've mentioned yer quest twice now. What exactly are ye doing? * Mark pushes his glasses back up onto his forehead with a sigh, "Well, you see, about a month ago the traider that brings the chemicles and such that my mother uses comes up with this story that some where over there." ::points east:: "miles and miles and even more miles over there, invented some kind of new engine that's supposed to be half the size and twice as strong as the steam I've got in here. And it's supposed to not need a water tank. And it runs on oil. And a hundred other miricles beside." No, I personaly think that such a thing can't be done, but my parents, Oh no, they buy this hook, line AND sinker. * Magellan 's eyes get really big. "'struth!" (now) And then they pack me off to go find the damn thing. Ach, if such a thing was real, 'twould be a sight to see. It would, but... I'm going to go out on a ledge here and say you've traveled around quite a bit, have you ever heard of such a thing before? (Wrap this up pretty soon?) (I would if I knew if we needed to have some kind of resolution made or not.) (should be able to cut it after Mag's answer, unless you're waiting for Mark to offer him a lift or something.) (You should stay in Heidelstrass. Other than that, I have a hook for everyone in the actual first session.) (Okay.) Nay, lad, but I've seen enough ta know ye can't just dismiss such things. * Magellan claps his arm around Mark's shoulder and guides him back to the bar. "Like, for instance, there were this time in Lucia..." (Works for me!) (we are the done?) [ And lo, was there much telling of stories until dawn, and much drinking, though of what science has yet to determine. ] [ Intromini: end! ]