Iron Kingdoms: Tides of War

[Cynical Cat]

The great iron beast bellowed smoke as it marched forward. A fire lived in its belly, the source of its strength and power. It followed a road of steel rails and wooden planks that travelled around hills and through forests. It seemed to go on forever, a metal serpent forged in the foundaries of men.

Several gun turrets studded the length of the train, each housing light breech lock cannons. Bandits and crossboarder raiders targeted trains and the vast cargos they carried and relations between Khador and Lael were increasingly strained. The rail companies and the merchants that used them had no interest in becoming victims of political violence or personal greed.

Inside mercenaries guarded the train. Most of them carried bows or guns and three out of four of them were tall, heavily built Umbreans. They were a proud, warlike people whose nation had vanished in earlier conflicts. They would never forget the past deeds of the horselords of Umbrea and because of that, they were still feared by those in Lael and Khador who ruled what had once been their land.

In one of the train cars a hard bitten young woman looked out the window and then pulled back the shutter. She wore a buff coat buttoned to the throat. The Sunburst of Morrow was embossed on the coat's collar. "Just forest out there holiness," she said.

The elderly man nodded. He wore a heavy fur lined robe and he was always close to a heavy case. He did not mistrust the guards provided for him by the Church of Morrow, all members in good standing or professionals with sterling reputations. He was just nervous.

He prodded the fire burning in the small iron stove. "I think I'll try to catch a nap," he said.

"Of course holiness," she said bowing. She walked to the small compartment's door and left it. The bolt was thrown behind her. The next compartment held her fellow guards, a motley group ranging from paladin riflemen to a trollkin fell caller. "He's sleeping," she said as she slid onto a seat.

[B4UTRUST]

Engas' head snapped up as the woman entered the cabin. He had been more or less peacefully dozing. The vibrations of the train and the rythmic clanking of wheels on the tracks had made him drowsy. Long uneventful trainrides tended to have that effect on him.
"Is he, now," Engas asked somewhat sleepily, yawning through it.

[LadyTevar]

Sprawled in one of the benchseats, about half-way down the compartment, Teghe looked up from polishing the delicately placed metal inlays added to his pistol as the Priestess of Morrow rejoined them.

"Is he, now," Engas asked somewhat sleepily, yawning through it.

"Trains are a good place for napping, m'lady. As you see, the Holiness is not the only one." Teghe quipped, nodding towards Engas with an easy grin.

[Cynical Cat]

Jessica opened her mouth and then closed it. There was no point. The exarch wasn't getting any younger or healthier. He didn't have too many years left. He slept more and moved less. His mind was still sharp, but for how much longer?

The wizard adjusted her gunbelt and pulled a blanket around her.

[Hotfoot]

Rogan awoke with a small start, the contraption he was working on half spilling out of his lap. He scrambled to stop the pieces from scattering over the room, just barely keeping the pile of parts from making a hideous racket. Following a sigh of relief, he let loose a long, drawn out yawn. "Well, will y'lookit that? Fell asleep wrenchin' out a smoother ride so's I could catch a nice nap. How d'y'like that?" He chuckled and went back to work on the device, a bemused smile on his lips. "Who wants to see if I can get this thing to work before the next stop? We could place some wagers, if Malkamar here'd be willing to hang on to the money." He gave the Paladin a wry grin and a knowing wink as his hands danced over his work.

[SirNitram]

The paladin looked up from careful polishing of his rifle to sigh. "There are ever problems with being the trustworthy one around you, Rogan." He said simply. He didn't like gambling. He wasn't sure there were any specific tenets against it, but it didn't strike him as a good way to get by.

[LadyTevar]

"Twins, no...," Teghe answered mournfully. "I already owe you enough money." Rogan had found an easy mark in Teghe when they first met, and Teghe wasn't going to repeat that mistake.

[Hotfoot]

"Ah, now don't be like that lad, you can never owe me enough money, y'should know that by now." He gave Teghe a playful wink. "If'n it makes you feel any better, she was almost done anyway. I'm just ticking the...hmm...hold on." And he was gone again, wrapped up in his work. The device was simple enough, two metal plates sandwiching a series of springs and pistons. It was rough, but looked functional enough.

"Oh yeah, that could come in handy, just gonna tweak that and just like that, a new Rogan original. Malkamar, since you enjoy the hazards of my company so much, care to give it a test run?" He offers up the device with one hand, twirling a pair of small tools in his other hand before sliding them back into his tool kit.

[B4UTRUST]

"That looks about as safe and well thought out as insulting a Scrutator of Menoth in the High Temple. And something tells me someone's already invented shock absorbers long before your hodge-podge deathtrap came into being," Engas muttered still half-asleep, a smile on his face.

"Nice try though, but leave the inventing to the real mechaniks," he continued, stiffling a yawn as he scratched his head, mussing his already messy 'bed-head' further.
"And for the record, oweing more then one coin to you is oweing you too much. I'm fairly certain oweing you quantities of money is a dangerous proposition."

[Bloody Good]

The trollkin, taking up altogether too much space as he lay sprawled out napping, mumbled something that had a lot of X's and M's in it. A bump in the rails shook him away. Ardal muttered, yawned, and looked blearily around.

Why is it so bright in here? Wait. Yeah, that's why. Keg for dinner. Hangover. He yawned again and shook his head. His mane of blood-red quills that stood in for hair made a rustling, rattling, clattery sort of noise.

"Mmrphm. Breakfast."

[SirNitram]

Malkamar studied the contraption. "On the other hand," He remarked. "It looks remarkably unlikely to explode, which is a step in the right direction."

[B4UTRUST]

"So is a steam-powered samophlange but I wouldn't sit on one of those either," remarked Engas, appraising the spring-loaded contrivance from the short distance.
"And the samophlange is probably less likely to break under significant pressure. Maybe our Trollkin comrade here would care to try it out. I'd wager his odds for living through the painful experiance of having one of those springs eject into the netherregions to be a bit higher our own."

Engas grinned over at the Trollkin as if daring him.
"Come on, I'll give you part of my next meal if you live," Engas stated jokingly. The device all in all probably would work, more or less, like it appeared it would. But as a professional mechanik and a fellow tinkerer he had to give Rogan as hard a time as he possibly could. It was practically required.

[LadyTevar]

"Why, Rogan... I do think Engas is showing a bit of professional jealousy there," Teghe chuckled. He wasn't going to try the contraption, not even if Rogan paid him twice what Teghe owed him. You never know where one of those springs might end up.

[B4UTRUST]

"Professional jealousy," Engas asked good-humoredly, faking the snort of derision.
"Please, a poor clumsy Bodger like him would be lucky if he were fit to shine the floors in a real mechanikal shop. We might deign to use that thing as a footstool, MAYBE. Now, give me a bit, some paper to draw up some schematics, some parts and a few hours and I'll make you a real shock absorber, complete with comfort padding and adjustable compression ratios to make it all nice, neat, portable and adjustable for an individual's comfort and easy of carry. Now, that contraption I might stick on an axle on a wagon as a stableizer, but certainly not to sit upon!"

[Hotfoot]

"Yes, yes, and if you had a real mechanikal shop, you still couldn't do half as much in twice the time. Run out of one custom-tooled gear, and oh no, can't do any work today. Let's go get a pint and scribble some nonsense on a rag and call it a good day's work. Meanwhile, any old bodger could pick up your machine and finish the job in a few ticks." He holds up his device and grins. "Sure, it might be rough, but it gets the job done. More'n that, there's more to it than you might guess at first blush. 'Course, if it ain't clearly marked, a bookended mechanik might not get it for a bit."

He fiddled with a few levers and switches, as though fine-tuning some hidden aspect of the machine. In truth, he had gotten bored halfway through creating a shock absorber, and in true bodger fashion had tinkered a second function into it, a much more enlightening function, as it were. He eyed the Trollkin and smirked. "I do agree it could use a test run, Engas is finally showing some true bodging sense. If you're going to test some kit, test it all the way. If it breaks, you can add on more bits to make it work right, and if it don't break, it means you can add more bits without too much trouble."

[B4UTRUST]

"Are you implying that a proper mechanik does not stress-test their constructs? I'll have you know that we subject ALL of our equipment to stringent testing procedures to ensure quality control! Which, oddly enough, might take a bit longer, but we also don't have to whack it with a hammer every five minutes to keep it running.

"Half as much in twice the time. Please, you wouldn't even know what to do with a proper mechanikal shop, much less how to build anything that works for more then the five minutes to pass your 'tests.' Typical bodger mentality. As long as it works once it's good to go. It's getting it to work once and every other time that's the important part. And that means *NOT* having to whack it with a wrench every time it stutters or stops! I'll bet you a steam-driven industrial strength triple-torquing samophlange that I can outdo you with a proper shop."

[LadyTevar]

Teghe had to chuckle there at the bodger's expense. "Gonna take that bet, Rogan? Or for once will you pass?"

[Hotfoot]

"Yeah, yeah, standard guild enforced tests. I know all about those. I'm the one that has to throw together quick fixes outside the shop because those things only go so far. Not saying some shops don't do quality work, mind, but I've gotten some 'jacks that had to be damn near rebuilt from the ground up because they just met 'Guild Standards'," He pats his wrench lovingly. "As for bangin', well, lad, when you're away from a shop and a busted down 'jack is the only thing keepin' ya from gettin' yer head blown off, well, a little bangin' ain't exactly the worst thing in the world."

He winked at Teghe and shook his head. "The smart gambler knows how to play his strengths, boyo. Now, sure, Engas could do a fine job with a proper shop, good plans, a good overseer, twelve apprentices doing half the grunt work, and all his spells and magic, but something like this could save your life, and I don't have to trudge all the way to a guild approved shop to get the parts or tools to make it. Plus, it's little gadgets like this that are born from necessity that make him and his mates in the shops perk up their ears and take notice, just like he did a moment ago," Rogan smirks, enjoying the verbal sparring. "Tell you what, Engas, if'y'like, when it's done with the test, I'll let you see what I did here and you can take it to a shop and see if you can refine it the next time we've got nowhere to go for a month. You can even tell everyone you made it."

[B4UTRUST]

Engas snorted good-naturedly.
"And while a good whack may indeed fix the problem for the time being, you're just decreasing the life of the parts by doing that. They're precision parts, which need precision maintenance. Not this bash it with a wrench till it works nonsense."

Engas patted his pack lovingly.
"And I've got my workshop with me. Just because I don't practice the fine art of percussive maintenance, does not mean I can't do field work. Mine just takes longer because it's done right. Replacing broken cogs, precisely tightening serpentine belts, applying correct tension to spring-loaded parts. Things that fall under manufacture specs and schematics. You know, those proper things us real mechaniks use from time to time when we make those 'jacks that need to be rebuilt from the ground up. We mechaniks are not responsible for the end-user's handling of the jacks and constructs after they're purchased. In this case, I cast serious doubt on your expertise in advanced jack-handling, which could lead to a premature end-life expectancy of the jack in question. Not saying you can't handle a jack when you have to, but they're delicate pieces of precision equipment that require proper use and proper maintenance. Which, I would be remiss not to point out, does not include smacking it with a wrench, even if it is 'proper field maintenance.'

"So, no bet then," Engas inquired, raising an eyebrow.

[LadyTevar]

Teghe leaned back in his seat, stretching out a little, his arms behind his head so his back and shoulders popped and cracked like wood in fire. His leather chestplate, however, did not move or shift in any way. Getting Rogan and Engas to tease each other was some of the best entertainment around. Besides, after cleaning out Teghe's pockets, Rogan deserved a bit of teasing at the very least.

Thus, Teghe's smile went from ear to ear as he listened to the two, looking for opportunities to egg the cheerful rivalry along.

[Hotfoot]

Rogan smirked and wagged his finger, "Ah ah, I didn't say no bet. After all, I think we can come to fair terms here. I'd be a fool to deny that you're skilled in a fancy shop, or when you get a chance to unpack whatever you've got in there, so let's try a more interesting standing wager, shall we? So long as we're working together, we'll keep a running tally on how many times our gadgets and gizmos pull fannies from the fire. Of course, to keep things respectable, y'gotta have a witness to testify to the act, or it don't count. They can be pre-built or scratch made, but they have to be something one or the other of us cobbled together. Shared designs, if it need be done, count for nothin' but maybe a few drinks from the rest of ye' the next time we make it to a tavern. In fact, since young mister Teghe is so interested in this wager, he'll offer up those free drinks as appropriate."

"Sound like a wager ye'd be interested in, Engas? I think it fair that the price be drinks all around, but if'n ye've got a better idea, I'd be interested in hearing it."

[Cynical Cat]

The train chugged on through northern Lael and the city of Rivermet came into view. The train slowed and finally came to a stop in the trainyard. A small swarm of human and gobber mechanics swarmed over the train, inspecting it and doing maintenance. Other humans and a few trollkin stevedors began to haul cargo.

Jess got up and knocked on the door. "Sir?" she said. "We've arrived."

[Comrade Tortoise]

Corey looked up from the notes he was reading

"I am all for anything that will pull our asses out of a raging conflagration. However I have found that drinks tend to decrease the intellect which means that more than likely our victories will level off and begin to drop off in frequency the more this particular wager is applied. Besides, with the frequency at which both your contraptions might work, I would hazard the guess that we will soon be kicked out of every tavern we visit for disorderly conduct... and a drunk and disorderly wizard is a scary thing to behold besides"

[LadyTevar]

In fact, since young mister Teghe is so interested in this wager, he'll offer up those free drinks as appropriate."

There went the smile, as Teghe started sputtering. "WHat? Hey, I did not agree to that!" he protested, quite possibly in vain from what he knew of Rogan.

Luckily, the matter was interrupted by their arrival, and by the -wizard- adding his two cents. "Indeed... I've seen a drunk wizard before," Teghe smirked over at Corey. "S'was so drunk he couldn't recall a word of magic to save his hide."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"That is part of the reason it is scary, because it often is pathetic and shameful. On the other hand, I once had to put down one that could remember magic and got into a fight... Burning Hands in a bar full of alcohol, dry wood, and alcohol soaked wood is not conducive to a fun night out. A gunmage can be worse though" he said with a wink, "what with the misfires, and inability not only to raise the gun, but aim and use it properly" that was followed by a very slight knowing smirk.