32nd of Frost, 4622
Two shadows streaked across the desert's dunes as the chariot's engine roared, spewing its smog into the desert air as its occupants traversed the winding sands.
Dust and sand ripped up in a lighter cloud behind them, as caused by the occasional slip in the rear wheel's traction.
The blazing sun bared down on their obscured forms, its heat enough to make the human among them sweat in the turbulent winds. Hidden behind her, Arkash was at the mercy of her pores as the wind tore through them both. Cloaks billowing in their advance, Arkash squinted his thick eyelids to act as a shield against the sand; Izzy wore her goggles awkwardly, as only one side rested on her eye while the other squeezed her eyepatch.
He clung to her, claws wrapped around her waist as she drove with reckless abandon. Small scale, the billowing winds, thrumming engine, and pluming smoke made it feel as though they traveled quickly, but from a distance, they were a slow crawl toward the busy Outpost-1, Shitport.
Sure enough, the sight of the weathered steel construct came into view, and Arkash squinted at the formation of towers as they drew near.
On their way, Izzy turned the Chariot off the way and led the vehicle near the water. She briefly explained that she often hid the chariot near the bank, and after some digging around the foliage, found her camouflaged tarp, which she used to drape the machine and made it look like a boulder.
Hand in claw, they climbed the bank and made the short walk to the towering metallic citadel. The gate, large and arched, was manned by two golems of a technology that resembled the design of Skystealer. Waves and curls of brass line their design atop an opaque alabaster material Arkash was unfamiliar with. One eye of blue lense peered from their heads as their gaze followed the two through the archway.
The inside wasn't as busy as Arkash had imagined; all the smells one would associate with a city filled his nose, of course, but the population of the establishment was comparably small Arkash curled his nose as he lowered his hood, features bare for the various occupants to see.
Several stalls lined the halls, cut into the metal walls to house the various wares that were peddled by the dealers. Various recreational plants, weapons of questionable quality, urns and jars of various substances, food, water... Shitport had it all it seemed, but as far as the bared Rath saw, there wasn't much in the way of world magic tools for sale.
He cast a glance down at the cloaked human in his company and smiled. "Well," he started as he traced his surroundings. "It's nicer than Rustbucket," he said with some level of amusement.
"Just be glad you didn't touch the water," Izzy warned with a foreboding glance. "Stuff's so polluted you'll be coughing up a lung from just a whiff,"
"No gaff?" he asked with a raise of his brow.
"No gaff," she clarified. "I know a guy that sells some Artificin' stuff... Not sure about Sunderin' though."
Arkash nodded a little at that, following her lead through the shady marketplace. Thoughtlessly, his weary yellow eyes ran the stalls before he frowned.
The human in his company was just as occupied browsing the wares of various merchants before she caught the gloom of his expression and raised her brow. "Ark?" She asked, which earned a snap of his head in her direction. "Everything alright?"
Arkash furrowed his brow in turn, raised them, smiled a little, and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," He looked back at the stall with a gesture of his head. "I just noticed that guy selling fried rats and I thought it was gross, that's all."
Izzy rose her brow, then began to laugh at the observation and shook her head. "Didn't you eat a giant undead bug not too long ago?" She reminded.
"Yeah," he nodded a bit. "That's valid," he agreed and maintained that frown while he browsed the stalls.
Izzy frowned in return to his despondence, then looked ahead to the path and where it lead them. Minutes of walking came followed by Izzy's sudden grip on his shoulder and a point of her free hand. "Right over there," she said with a lean toward his ear. "See it? Right there."
Where the girl indicated was a stall built into the bend of the hall ahead of him. A small lobby led into the store with an open doorway. Above it, a sign forged with scrap metal that Arkash failed to determine. Beside it, the depiction of two gears with a wrench crammed between the teeth. "Looks like a problem," Arkash commented with an ambiguous squint before he glanced back at his companion. "You sure?"
She rolled her one eye with a slight smile and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I've known Bosby for... Almost a year," she spoke in assurance with a pat on his back. "Come on, I bet he knows where we can track one down if nothing else."
Arkash breathed deeply through his nose, shrugged, then followed after the girl as she hurried ahead.
The closer they drew, the louder the clicking and ticking of clockwork became until the sources of the noise beheld themselves around the corner.
Various machinations of brass and copper littered the shelves, many of them with a plethora of moving parts. Arkash stared in wonder, wide yellow eyes tracing the shelves with no shortage of intrigue. The front desk was unoccupied, despite Izzy's ringing of the bell that rested on the desk. So, Arkash retrieved one of those contraptions with a reach and began to inspect the thing in his claws. it was a small brass box with a variety of gears slowly turning at the top. a small level to wind at the side, and a variety of other gears that were made to move when the top one ticked and spun.
"Ahem!" Called the gruff voice of an older man. Arkash looked up from the machine and set his gaze on the one that had interrupted his inspection. There, in the doorway of the backroom was a human of wrinkled, fair skin, a patchy white beard that reached around to his ears and crawled over his lip, and cold grey eyes. he was dressed in a white shirt with a brown overcoat and wore a variety of brass ornaments wherever he could seem to fit them. Atop his head, beneath the brown hat, were signs of balding toward the edge of what he hid. His brow furrowed as he looked upon the Rath. "Fancy poppin' that back on the shelf there, boy?" He spoke with authority.
Arkash looked between the older man and Izzy before he hesitantly placed the trinket back on the shelf.
The man, presumably Bosby, shook his head in response. "Kids these days," he tutted. "As I was saying..." he began and turned to face Izzy with a long pause, then furrowed his brow once again in confusion. "Deary me, I forgot. What was I saying?"
"You hadn't started yet," Izzy reminded. "I've just been dingin' away, tryin'a get ya attention."
"Oh dear!" He called in a wave of excitement and coughed into his fist. "Well that's no good. Long time no see Izzy, how's life treatin' ya?"
She shrugged a little. "Oh you know," a glance at the lizard in her company. "It has its ups and downs."
"More downs than ups I'd say," he muttered. Izzy chuckled. Arkash rose a brow. "So what can I do you for? A new gun?"
She shook her head. "We're in the market for a Sundering kit. Seen any going or heard anything?"
The older man crossed his arms, lips pressed together in an unamused look while his brow furrowed. "Alright then," he said with a shake of his head, then lifted a pair of goggles that hung around his neck to cover his eyes. and bent down behind the bar. He wheezed and huffed down there as if the motion had caused him intense strain. Arkash and Izzy exchanged a look with one another before they both shrugged, and returned their confused gazes to the man as he rose from behind the bar with a hefty rifle in hand. It was obviously Artificed, and Fragmented too. The moving part of the chamber of the gun began to spin, whir and glow as the old man charged up the weapon. "You've got ten seconds to tell me who told you about my sundering kit!" He roared above the whirring charge of the machine.
Two shadows streaked across the desert's dunes as the chariot's engine roared, spewing its smog into the desert air as its occupants traversed the winding sands.
Dust and sand ripped up in a lighter cloud behind them, as caused by the occasional slip in the rear wheel's traction.
The blazing sun bared down on their obscured forms, its heat enough to make the human among them sweat in the turbulent winds. Hidden behind her, Arkash was at the mercy of her pores as the wind tore through them both. Cloaks billowing in their advance, Arkash squinted his thick eyelids to act as a shield against the sand; Izzy wore her goggles awkwardly, as only one side rested on her eye while the other squeezed her eyepatch.
He clung to her, claws wrapped around her waist as she drove with reckless abandon. Small scale, the billowing winds, thrumming engine, and pluming smoke made it feel as though they traveled quickly, but from a distance, they were a slow crawl toward the busy Outpost-1, Shitport.
Sure enough, the sight of the weathered steel construct came into view, and Arkash squinted at the formation of towers as they drew near.
On their way, Izzy turned the Chariot off the way and led the vehicle near the water. She briefly explained that she often hid the chariot near the bank, and after some digging around the foliage, found her camouflaged tarp, which she used to drape the machine and made it look like a boulder.
Hand in claw, they climbed the bank and made the short walk to the towering metallic citadel. The gate, large and arched, was manned by two golems of a technology that resembled the design of Skystealer. Waves and curls of brass line their design atop an opaque alabaster material Arkash was unfamiliar with. One eye of blue lense peered from their heads as their gaze followed the two through the archway.
The inside wasn't as busy as Arkash had imagined; all the smells one would associate with a city filled his nose, of course, but the population of the establishment was comparably small Arkash curled his nose as he lowered his hood, features bare for the various occupants to see.
Several stalls lined the halls, cut into the metal walls to house the various wares that were peddled by the dealers. Various recreational plants, weapons of questionable quality, urns and jars of various substances, food, water... Shitport had it all it seemed, but as far as the bared Rath saw, there wasn't much in the way of world magic tools for sale.
He cast a glance down at the cloaked human in his company and smiled. "Well," he started as he traced his surroundings. "It's nicer than Rustbucket," he said with some level of amusement.
"Just be glad you didn't touch the water," Izzy warned with a foreboding glance. "Stuff's so polluted you'll be coughing up a lung from just a whiff,"
"No gaff?" he asked with a raise of his brow.
"No gaff," she clarified. "I know a guy that sells some Artificin' stuff... Not sure about Sunderin' though."
Arkash nodded a little at that, following her lead through the shady marketplace. Thoughtlessly, his weary yellow eyes ran the stalls before he frowned.
The human in his company was just as occupied browsing the wares of various merchants before she caught the gloom of his expression and raised her brow. "Ark?" She asked, which earned a snap of his head in her direction. "Everything alright?"
Arkash furrowed his brow in turn, raised them, smiled a little, and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," He looked back at the stall with a gesture of his head. "I just noticed that guy selling fried rats and I thought it was gross, that's all."
Izzy rose her brow, then began to laugh at the observation and shook her head. "Didn't you eat a giant undead bug not too long ago?" She reminded.
"Yeah," he nodded a bit. "That's valid," he agreed and maintained that frown while he browsed the stalls.
Izzy frowned in return to his despondence, then looked ahead to the path and where it lead them. Minutes of walking came followed by Izzy's sudden grip on his shoulder and a point of her free hand. "Right over there," she said with a lean toward his ear. "See it? Right there."
Where the girl indicated was a stall built into the bend of the hall ahead of him. A small lobby led into the store with an open doorway. Above it, a sign forged with scrap metal that Arkash failed to determine. Beside it, the depiction of two gears with a wrench crammed between the teeth. "Looks like a problem," Arkash commented with an ambiguous squint before he glanced back at his companion. "You sure?"
She rolled her one eye with a slight smile and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I've known Bosby for... Almost a year," she spoke in assurance with a pat on his back. "Come on, I bet he knows where we can track one down if nothing else."
Arkash breathed deeply through his nose, shrugged, then followed after the girl as she hurried ahead.
The closer they drew, the louder the clicking and ticking of clockwork became until the sources of the noise beheld themselves around the corner.
Various machinations of brass and copper littered the shelves, many of them with a plethora of moving parts. Arkash stared in wonder, wide yellow eyes tracing the shelves with no shortage of intrigue. The front desk was unoccupied, despite Izzy's ringing of the bell that rested on the desk. So, Arkash retrieved one of those contraptions with a reach and began to inspect the thing in his claws. it was a small brass box with a variety of gears slowly turning at the top. a small level to wind at the side, and a variety of other gears that were made to move when the top one ticked and spun.
"Ahem!" Called the gruff voice of an older man. Arkash looked up from the machine and set his gaze on the one that had interrupted his inspection. There, in the doorway of the backroom was a human of wrinkled, fair skin, a patchy white beard that reached around to his ears and crawled over his lip, and cold grey eyes. he was dressed in a white shirt with a brown overcoat and wore a variety of brass ornaments wherever he could seem to fit them. Atop his head, beneath the brown hat, were signs of balding toward the edge of what he hid. His brow furrowed as he looked upon the Rath. "Fancy poppin' that back on the shelf there, boy?" He spoke with authority.
Arkash looked between the older man and Izzy before he hesitantly placed the trinket back on the shelf.
The man, presumably Bosby, shook his head in response. "Kids these days," he tutted. "As I was saying..." he began and turned to face Izzy with a long pause, then furrowed his brow once again in confusion. "Deary me, I forgot. What was I saying?"
"You hadn't started yet," Izzy reminded. "I've just been dingin' away, tryin'a get ya attention."
"Oh dear!" He called in a wave of excitement and coughed into his fist. "Well that's no good. Long time no see Izzy, how's life treatin' ya?"
She shrugged a little. "Oh you know," a glance at the lizard in her company. "It has its ups and downs."
"More downs than ups I'd say," he muttered. Izzy chuckled. Arkash rose a brow. "So what can I do you for? A new gun?"
She shook her head. "We're in the market for a Sundering kit. Seen any going or heard anything?"
The older man crossed his arms, lips pressed together in an unamused look while his brow furrowed. "Alright then," he said with a shake of his head, then lifted a pair of goggles that hung around his neck to cover his eyes. and bent down behind the bar. He wheezed and huffed down there as if the motion had caused him intense strain. Arkash and Izzy exchanged a look with one another before they both shrugged, and returned their confused gazes to the man as he rose from behind the bar with a hefty rifle in hand. It was obviously Artificed, and Fragmented too. The moving part of the chamber of the gun began to spin, whir and glow as the old man charged up the weapon. "You've got ten seconds to tell me who told you about my sundering kit!" He roared above the whirring charge of the machine.
Image source.
