Screws, Bolts, and a Nut- Notwen's Jygust 30th, Trade Tide

[Gim Sprockett]

"A-choo!" Gim sneezed. The dust billowed about the tiny gnome as he swept under his table. Notwen made sure that Gim kept the rest of the shop clean, but, naturally, his area is left to mites and dust.

The gnome limped his way towards the window, feeling hardly anything on his previously injured foot. Mostly healed, all the wound accomplished was to slow down the otherwise hyperactive creature and add a gimp to his already amusing waddle. After haphazardly stacking two crates and a stool, Gim climbed towards the window and dumped out two months' worth of dust into the street. Completely oblivious to the fact that the streets were packed with bustling bodies every single trade tide, Gim waddled back to his work table, unceremoniously tossing away his armory of broom and dustpan.

Gim proceeded to look through the multitude of notes Notwen left for him, meanwhile absently stroking his inflected moustache.

"Tonklin's bolts! That darned Prolis conductor... Someday I'll smash it to pieces and figure out what it does." Gim grumbled.

Armed with a fistful of bolts, Gim crept up to the mysterious box. He threw the handful of metal into the contraption, and immediately dove behind a table. Why? Mostly for amusement; he fed the blasted box many times before and knew what to expect. Giggling to himself, Gim moseyed over towards his table.

"Now... What is this?" The gnome gingerly grabbed the strangely glowing globe. Magic. How boring. Gim had always felt that magic was cheating, somewhat. Why invoke some volatile forces when good old cerebral muscle could do the trick?

"Hm... I wonder how magic reacts with true blue science?" Gim set to work on experimenting with the orb. Of course, the gnome's idea of experimentation can usually be described as fragmentation and destruction. He took his knife and attempted to cut of chunks of the orb, then proceeded to grind the fragments in his mortar. He'll have to keep some of the pieces to see if it would react with his reagents once he gets home, but right now Gim is concerned mostly with the physical properties of the magicked item.

Absorbed in his own world, Gim scrawled on parchment, describing the properties of the orb. He noted on whether or not the glow was homogeneous throughout the mutilated orb, whether or not cutting at it or grinding it caused any sort of reaction, whether or not there was any heat associated with the light, and any other interesting, and perhaps useless, observations he could make.

[Matiel Escariot]

"Notwen," Matiel whispered the name to himself as he looked at the shop's little sign jutting out from the stone wall from high above.

The Gear.

It was burnt deep into wood, tinted next with what seemed to me a more solid form of ink that glinted in the face of the sun despite its chipped edges and faded innards. The symbol swayed in the wind, holding on to Matiel's sight for several flickers, holding him there, still, unmoving, unthinking, uneverything.

The Gear.

It was everything and nothing. Matiel didn't know why. It was disturbing feeling, a worm crawling slowly up his skin, the feeling of not knowing why. Or did he know? That much he couldn't discover for himself as thought left him as easily as it came to him. The image of, the thought of, of one thing moving several others held him. It made him try to realize something he could not. If he knew, whatever it was that he knew, it scared him.

"By the nether," he swore, "What the fuck am I doing?"

Matiel tore off his attention from the symbol of a gear and breathed out a sudden burst of air through his clenched teeth. He left his place, in quickened pace, and approached the door. He had something he needed don by tomorrow. He had no time for his thoughts, or lack thereof, overwhelming his own plans.

Inside, away from the image, he felt more at ease.

He softly opened the door and hovered over the threshold. He gave himself a flicker to look over everything inside where he had his apprenticeship, and had his eyes looking for the men he worked with here. Instantly, Gim was the one he saw. He had never truly taken the time to know the gnome. He didn't really care anyway. Gim was passionate, but Matiel was wary over that passion. Chaos and Order, were illusions of form. Gim was no illusion.

"Gim," he called to the gnome as he approached the counter, unpacking his gauntlets and bracers, "Where's Notwen?"

Notwen was suffering. This much Matiel knew. It was a miracle the old gnome was still able to teach him a thing or two over the past three months spent here. Matiel knew how hard the old gnome tried to remedy the suffering, trying to invent ways to stem the rot in his age. Pity was not something he could understand. He was sorry, though, that a shop like this, the only one of its form in this city, would soon be gone.

[Ashari]

The trinket of illumination gave off a soft and even heat, but as he broke and granulated the pieces their strength decreased, as did their inherant heat. It was an unusual substance, one that was crystalline and broke apart fairly easily and broke down with some finality to the size and texture of beach sand. It was opaque, and even the grains themselves glowed, though this faded quickly.

The pieces seemed to lose their power more quickly when separated from the rest, while the chunks still continued to glow while he examined the smaller bits. Gim's mortar and pestle, too, gave off a faint light, as if the particulate pieces he couldn't really see with the naked eye were charged as well.

Out front, the door to the shop opened. A customer! Notwen had left Gim in charge of the store this day while he went out for some errands and a meeting which he'd been mildly secretive about. It was quite against his nature to keep anything from his favourite apprentice, Gim, but, the reason for the appointment was kept private - atleast for now. He'd left approximately a mark prior, but hadn't suggested when he'd return, merely saying that Gim was in charge. "Good luck, laddie!" He'd said, departing in good humor while tucking some manner of folder under his arm.

It left Gim alone to concentrate on his own projects - and, of course, deal with the arrival of Matiel in the shop.

[Gim Sprockett]

"Fascinating!" Gim exclaimed as he proceeded to mutilate the magical trinket. Hopefully it wasn't worth a fortune. The gnome scribbled on his sheet of parchment to be transferred into his notebook once he returned home. This melding of magick and science sparked an interest in Gim, and definitely something he could pursue.

Funny glowy object gizmo
- Magick (How boring!)
- Soft, malleable, bouncy
- Dirty whitish sort of colour
- Radiates heat as well as light

* Experiment- Fragmentation
- Easy to break (I like it more already!)
- Grinds to crystalline sand-like substance
- IMPORTANT: Strength decreases when fragmented. Grains glowed for short time, but quickly disappear. Magick exerts positive reinforcement? Whole greater than sum? Must consult with enchanter.

* To do:
- React grains with various reagents
- Find magick user. Grill magick user.
- Get more!

As Gim finished his notes with a flourish on the exclamation mark, he was rudely shocked as a man called out to him. Brandishing a wrench by reflex, he raised his head and looked around as a squirrel guarding its treasure would. He noticed Matiel, the other apprentice, standing near the door. The gnome had no real opinion about the human, or about any human in particular, for that matter. Since Matiel knew more of the craft than Gim, however, he was a useful source of information and instruction.

"Hullo, fatty!" Gim greeted with no intended malice in his voice. He hopped off his stool and hobbled his way towards Matiel. "Notwen isn't here! But I guess you knew that. Smart! He left a mark ago. Left a bunch of notes, too. Old Prolis conductor needed some feeding and whatnot. Didn't say where he went! Anything the matter?"

[Matiel Escariot]

"I need something done."

Matiel didn't come here as an apprentice, but more of someone who wanted Notwen's kind of service. He had done unpacking his only pieces of armor, and thought on them some more as they lay there before him. He now had the steel for his hands and fingers, his forearms, and yet he didn't have pieces for his shoulders and biceps. Wait, that could be remedied. It all depends on whether Notwen would allow his work sold or not.

"When is he coming back, and where did he go?"

"I'm ready to wait for him it I need to. Until he does arrive, maybe I could help around for a while. It's been a while anyway, since the last time I was here doing something."

Matiel then remembered the gear box he and Gim was supposed to fix. That went nowhere at all. He hoped it would not be such now.

[Ashari]

The shop itself looked much how it had when Matiel was here last. One of the few differences was one table, which rather than being piled with Notwen's numerous inventions was given over to Gim's. Not that it would be a marked difference in the young man's eyes, but there was the chance he'd notice.

Aside from that, it remained much much the same.

OOC: I'm sure you guys are capable of some conversation. If you need me let me know!

[Gim Sprockett]

"Well..." Gim pondered. Unfortunately the fat giant came moments too late to do his sweeping for him.

The gnome then recalled his first meeting with Matiel, how the two of them were sent to construct a gear box, to no avail. The pieces Notwen had around the contraption didn't match. If memory served Gim correctly, the box should still be in the back, doing little but collecting dust.

"Wait here, fatty!" Gim hobbled his way into the back room, a larger fragment of the light trinket in hand.

From outside the storage area, Gim's ramblings could be heard as he yelled out the names of the strange and wonderful contraptions in the dust-blanketed room. Many of the machines will do nothing but slowly sew a mantle of cobwebs, rust, and dust as the yahrens go by. An affirmative exclamation could be heard, followed by a violent cacophony of crashes, accompanied by an orchestra of metal upon metal, and metal upon bone. After a spirited fit of curses, the gnome emerged, surprisingly alive, covered in dust and scrapes, carrying his prize: the semi-assembled gearbox.

Gim placed the box on the table and turned to Matiel.

"Remember this blasted thing?" Gim asked. "Didn't have the right tools with us last time! Maybe we can figure out what we actually need this time around. Feel up to it?"

[Matiel Escariot]

"Quite, I was hoping for something along this line of labor."

Matiel moved on to excuse himself from the counter. He asked the gnome to wait a short while as he tried to traverse the sea of metal which was Notwen's shop. He found it equally amusing that only a gnome could understand another gnomes mess and think it clean.

When he finally found himself at ease within the inner parts of this shop he began to relax as the dangers of spilling a pile--of miscellany propped on the floor--over lessened. He found the usual shelves where he would keep his effects and placed his bag and only pieces of armor there. As he worked to organize himself, his mind quickly went over the number of things he should be able to do while he was here. First things first, the gearbox.

That little contraption itself wasn't a nagging irritation of failure to him. It was merely something he patched over with more prioritized memories as the days went by. What much he did know about it was that it came from on of Notwen's needs. He had captured Agries whispering meanings easily. If anything, Notwen's work as of late as all about making a common mortal better. This gearbox might not be so different.

Having found his way back into Gim's company, with his strolling outerwear off and an apron on, he prepared to get back to the familiar feel of grime and oil on his naked hands.

"Gim, we have the tools for now, yes, but they will not help us much at all, just like last time, if we do not at least try to answer some fundamental questions first," Matiel began, "And at the top of my list is: What exactly is this thing supposed to do?"

"Once we find that out, everything else should fall into place."

He then began to examine the compounded cacophony of metal on metal, "Oh, and just an after thought, you may want to find some of Notwen's more recent notes. We might find some clues there concerning this. And spare me the figures, just words, theories, ideas, and schematics that look vaguely like this."

[Ashari]

The gearbox sat there - a conundrum of infinite capability - if only they could figure out what it was meant to do.

One thing was certain, since they'd last looked at the contraption it had gathered a fine layer of dust that stuck to the grease that lined all the inner workings of it's cogs, gears and shafts. It would now be more difficult for any of the mechanisms to move with any precision, and was likely it'd require some cleaning and reapplication of the oil to keep it running smoothly.

Well, that's to say, if it was meant to run at all.

A mess of tools were at their disposal, as well as Notwen's numerous notes. Whether or not they were capable of putting the right schematic with this contraption was dependent on it existing, and being readable. As for the tools, only hands on work would provide any interest as for what they needed.

[Matiel Escariot]

It was frustrating. Being presented with garbles of thought--that was meant to do something but that something was left to mystery--Matiel had slow down his mind. He did not like slowing down his thoughts, but this required that.

He'd been an apprentice under Notwen for a long time, in that time he still had no idea how to deal with the Master Inventor's work. He learned bits and pieces of the craft here and there, but still they were merely bits and pieces. In anything that was to be done, Matiel had to learn it's workings at the pace of a worm's craw. Despite that though, he was still good at it.

The first thing he had to do was to get a better look at the pieces inside the contraption. He gestured for Gim to allow him a moment with the device alone. In that moment, he calmly brought out pieces of blank paper from the shelf of the counter the device was on and set them next to the device. He also brought out a stick of graphite and began to scratch down on paper of the pieces that stuck to the device from the outside, and numbered them according to where they were place.

In effect, it was like making a rough copy of the device itself on paper, just so Matiel would remember which part was meant for which section. Along with this list he noted down the dimensions of the device. Was it a box? Was it a rectangular container? What held it together? Screws, bolts, things easily removed and returned? What kinds of metal were used here? And the grease...

Matiel remembered grease from the last time he saw the thing. He smoothed a finger over the sections he remembered had the grease on it and felt it. Unfortunately, the dust was a hindrance to the consistency. He couldn't quite know what kind of grease was used. In effect, he had to smell it.

From that he wiped his hands and tried to see where he could open the device from. The next best thing to do was to have a clear view of what was inside and connect the pieces inside with those placed outside. Matiel was careful in moving the contraption around as he examined it though. He had no idea what Notwen placed inside, what kind of minute bearings or sensitive gears were placed at a hair's touch away from being broken. He was careful to take note of everything he saw as he did this.

But before he could open it, he had to clean it. The dust was getting in the way. He took out a rag from under the shelf and began to slowly wipe away the dust from the top of the device and it's sides. He was gentle in doing so, making sure he took out only the dust and left the grease to line the places where they were supposed to. As he did this, he kept his open for little markings here or there where Notwen may have dented into the machine.

"Gim," he turned to his fellow pupil and asked, "I've done everything that I could at this moment. It's your turn, if you've found any notes of Notwen please tell me, I'll try to look for them too."

"And, yes, I've made some preliminary notes on the thing. Here, it might not help us so much, but I hope it keeps us in order."

Having done what he could with the machine alone, Matiel now transferred his attention to everything else in the shop. He needed to find what thoughts on paper Notwen had that he could use.

[Gim Sprockett]

While Matiel was busy courting the machine, Gim delved into his master's thoughts. He sat on a relatively uncluttered area on the floor, and transferred the massive piles of notes from various shelves in the shop unto it. Sitting down on the ground with a soft thump, the gnome began to mine the precious veins of knowledge of his master.

"Silly fatty thinks he can read these," Gim muttered to himself. "Gnomes! Our noggins don't just nog, it sings! Gnomic superiority at work, here... Humm... What in the name of blazes is this? A singing teapot? No wait... Humm..."

And so Gim buried himself in Notwen's notes. The giant pile beside him shrank as he redistributed it around him, classifying it to smaller piles with no apparent pattern besides his fancy. A ring of paper built around him, in a fashion akin to painting oneself into a corner, but this was simply Gim's peculiar mind at work. Specifically Gim searched for anything that resembled the box that Matiel was working on, in any shape or form. The gnome was used to perusing reams of schematics; he does so as a pastime, and found his current activity very amusing.

When Matiel was done molesting the box, Gim hopped to his feet. It was now that he noticed that he could not move a step without stepping on some precious schematic or ten. The hapless gnome stroked his inflected moustache.

"Well, fatty," Gim said. "Tell you what, I trust in your preliminary checks upon the box, so I don't feel the need to double check your work! Here, look through these..."

The gnome threw a stack of notebooks and schematics at Matiel.

"While I go through these." Gim gestured towards the remaining unread piles of schematics. "There's bound to be something!"

And, in great humour, Gim returned to perusing the schematics, keeping a lookout for the gear box and anything of interest as well, all the while humming a jolly tone.

[Matiel Escariot]

It worried him, the amount of difficult to understand texts being so suddenly piled into his arms. He first gave the gnome a look of wonder, and then dismay, as he realized the chaos which was the gnomish way of conceiving ideas.

He smiled.

He nodded in agreement to the other apprentice's suggestion. It was a wise thing to do, to divide their efforts and better see if they could find some clues. It amused him greatly though, in seeing how big a contrast theirs ways in finding anything actually was. He wasn't much for diversity of methods, but he knew passion when he saw it. Everyone had their own ways, so did Gim. He would not interfere.

Having his assigned pile to look at, he tried to find some space upon which it was easier for him to check the files. Incidentally, the only other place which was not afflicted with gnomish brilliance was the counter where he was examining the box.

Quite.

First off, he didn't think about a system yet. With the box beside him, and his notes next to the papers, he began to slowly and carefully read each page of scribbles and thoughts.

He kept it in mind to look for legible hand writing done in common letters and tongue. These he prioritized in finding more than actual numbers and formulas. Followed right after with rough sketches and illustrations of thoughts vaguely similar to the gear box itself.

And yet, it wasn't just the gearbox which he was trying to ascertain though. As he read, he made sure to look out for mild inconsistencies of voice, stunted flow of thoughts, and frustrated facades presented by a choice of words. He was also keen to keep the hand writing in check. He made notes on that too, comparing it from one page to another.

If anything, something wrong was going on with Notwen. Whatever it was, it was a driving force for much of his recent work. Matiel wanted to find out what.

[Ashari]

Matiel's cleaning of the box went fairly well, though his gear-box drawing didn't do the strange contraption much justice. He did manage to get the overall shape, though some of his angles were a bit irregular and off. He could understand it, which meant he'd be able to further study the questionable cube.

While Gim pawed through his pile of schematics he found a few designs that were square in shape, as well as an increasingly interesting Spark Axis which appeared to be some form of sphere that was made of a metal netting grid rather than being whole which spun on an axis and triggered some sort of mechanism which created a spark. The momentum was created by magnets (according to Notwen's notes - though they weren't obvious from looking at the sheet) though there was another note scrawled saying it needs a nudge from my finger; does go; lead wire needs work as a scribbled afterthought.

Notwen's handwriting seemed to stay fairly maintained through the papers that Matiel sorted. There were occasional bits that were bolded, from using another pen, or some which were thoughtlessly scrawled. These were usually the results of the schematic, and he had a simple pass or fail system.

In the mix of schematics Matiel found a page of a different color that was Notwen's handwriting, and rather well for Matiel also in common.

Jaym 1224
Agrie is an imposter of himself. I don't know who he is - or why he's here... what has he done with my assistant? I should like to kill this imposter.

This was done in a wickedly difficult to read font that was harsh and abrasive compared with the rest.

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel's eyes darkened.

All at once, he forgot what he wanted.

"Gim," Matiel called his name as he continued to go through the notes, "Have you noticed anything different around during the past few months of working here?"

It was a nice and easy question. He didn't lend his voice its usual share of control and empty tone, but he was able to keep it neutral enough to at least try and hide the unease and flickers of stuttering in his words.

He went on though, despite whatever it was he found. He hoped the old Gnome wouldn't notice, as he slowly began to fold the paper he found Notwen's words on. He thought of where to hide it, and cursed as his gloves were off and he had know way of hiding it without being obvious. Even if, he had his back to Gim now, it would be a little too stark a movement. So, he held his breath in, as he mixed the folded page into his own stack of notes.

With that done, he hoped Gim wouldn't notice, "Have anything yet on your end?"

His work must go on though. He was thankful he began to find some designs which looked the part of the Gear Box they were trying to work with. The pages where he found those rough sketches were taken out from the rest of the pile and set right below the box. He laid the other stack next to that on and began to compare the to piles, trying to figure out whether one page was connected to the next.

He did this by reading well into what common wordings he could find and tried to realize the thoughts behind those words. These he compared to other pages and tried to connect whether the words on some page were related to the next and if the idea on one page was set before or after another page if ever their ideas seemed to coincide.

He then tried to pile them together again. This time he set the pages where he could find the box looking sketches on at the front of every stack as he made a ream of pages for every single page he found a box drawing on. Beneath these pages he set the other pages in order of relation to the page on top of it. He then began to compare the stacks he re organized with the Gear Box.

As he worked, he kept his eyes out for pages similar to the one he just found. He took note by then, of the hand writing and the kind of writing implement used by Notwen, if it really was Notwen that wrote it. After remembering the color that page was written with, he asked Gim whether he found any pages on his half of the notes with the same color of pen.

[Gim Sprockett]

Gim set apart the square-shaped designs to be compared to the gearbox later, but the peculiar Spark Axis caught the gnome's attention. He rolled it up and slipped it in his belt buckle; it seemed like a very intriguing project to try and work on; sparks upon command! Gim has heard of sparks, but never actually seen one, after all. He actually didn't know the exact nature of sparks, and was therefore curious of it by default. The current task at hand, however, was the box the two were working on.

Carefully nudging a spot open in the field of paper around him with his toe, Gim, hopped on his good leg away from his self-made trap. After almost tipping over and crashing into a pile of tools, Gim made his way back towards Matiel and the box.

"Anything different? Hm..." Gim trailed off. "Can't say. I'll try to remember."

With that, Gim sifted through his pile of Gear Box-like schematics. His method was far less methodical than Matiel's; all he did was scan the diagrams on the different sheets and tried to find something weird enough that was present in both the picture and the actual box. If that failed, the gnome would resort to scanning the rather difficult to understand text for, again, names of components not usually seen in other contraptions but were present in the gear-box. He did this in no orderly fashion, of course, flipping through random pages, and backtracking again if it suited his fancy. All the while, Gim thought back to Notwen the past couple of months; did he seem strange at all? Strange beyond the already high gnomic bar, of course.

[Ashari]

Time would dredge on with startling hesitance as the pair sifted through papers, checked schematics, compared handwritings and squirreled away design concepts into their belts. Neither noticed the other's underhandedness, but just as so neither was able to pick out the design that would clue them into what this queer contraption was. Gim's unsettled feet spread out a number of mechanisms including a bucket of pulley wheels, a few unusual cogs and a copper crank. These crashed down with a varied array of tools creating a cacophony of metal on metal or metal on wood noises combined with each item's thud on the hardwood floor until they were properly scattered about him.

Thus, they returned to their work, and Tradetide threatened to give over to Eveningtide, though they still had a few burns that Gim would need to keep the shop "open" as his mentor had requested of him.

One of the interesting things about the Gear Box was the metal it was made of. The interior pieces (being the gears and shafts themselves) were pure copper so that in proper light they shone with a pinkish hue. The exterior was a copper-zinc alloy, giving it a silver quality mixed with the copper tone. This was more noticeable now that the box had been cleaned up some and a measure of the black grease had been removed.

Not many of Notwen's rambling notes were done in common. There were a few scribblings here and there, but none of them held the same impact as the previous words he'd read, and none of them were in the same awkward hand. As far as papers matching the light green color there was only one, and it was a crude sketch of a body armor, or that's what it appeared to be at first glance. It was the first drawing of the mechanical suit that Notwen had aims of inventing, and that could be seen with the "inner" drawing of a small person within the suit. There were notes beneath it, but these were all written in gnomish which Matiel couldn't read.

As Gim tried to think about things that had happened over the past few months it would be easiest to recall the rudimentary and routine things. Most days were the same as the last, though Notwen had the peculiar new need to get up into his bed before dusk. There was almost a fear attached to this, and he had no problems leaving Gim to work on his own projects as soon as the evening marks began. The only other thing of interest was Notwen deciding to somewhat abruptly end the employment of his assistant. Argrie hadn't been in the shop for nearly a tenday now.

[Matiel Escariot]

The tide was slowly turning. Matiel did not fail to notice that as he watched the lights form without the shop change and darken. As he watched, he was graced to notice the light's gaze on the metal box. Copper. Copper was a strange thing to use. It's hue was slowly showing from certain parts within and outside of the box as he watched a shaft slowly move towards it.

Time was moving. He had to decide here and now what he would do.

Something seriously wrong was going on and he did not have the time to deal with it personally. He then set his eyes on the piece of paper he had tried to hide from Gim. He frowned as he stared, wondering. What should he do? No. It was no longer within his ability to do anything at all.

Matiel turned to Gim and drew out the piece of paper where Gim's words were noticeably different in writing. He handed the paper to his gnomish co worker and for a flicker forgot all about the box and the reason why he was here.

Some things in this world were more important than metal.

"Gim," he was careful with the words he chose to say, "There is something wrong. I do not know what it is, but I do know that it is wrong. This is a grain of sand, a tiny pixel of the bigger picture. I can not act on this for tomorrow I am leaving this city and will never return. I am hoping...that I could trust you with this. You're the only one here now."

The day was ending and what he came here for was slowly being lost. He sighed. He picked up the sketch of what seemed to be what he was looking for and showed it to Gim, "Also, I was hoping on finding this. Do you know where I could find it? I want to buy it."

The Box can wait.