[Prologue] Downrider

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Lilli could only steal a few glances at the device between the crunch of larger bodies surrounding her. However, from what she could gleam from the others in the group, the analysis of the device was scientific in nature, rather than magical. The mention of electromagnetic fields was indicative of that. It took some patience on her part, as she waited on the initial infatuation with the rocks to fade. However, when it did, Lilli stared at the construct, her cyan irises glimmering in the light of the room. For a brief moment, Lilli closed her eyes to better observe any potential magical energies radiating from it. She detected faint traces of magic within the thing, which was enough for her to conclude that the device was not magical in nature or construction. However, it was possible that the creators of the construct had a connection to magic.

Although her father had worked at a magitech research institute before his banishment, Lilli herself had little knowledge of science, technology, and physics. Her areas of knowledge resided in anything that was taught at a mage's college. With a soft intake of breath, Lilli lowered herself back into her chair before locking eyes with Miko.

"I do not believe this construct has any magical connection." She spoke softly, but with certainty in her tone.
 
Oliver watched as the engineers, inventors and other interested parties gathered around the metal on the table, he had been expecting a fair bit of this kind of thing. Oliver was not one who worked with metal or people even for that matter, looking at the current situation he decided he need not say anything, instead he did what he did best and listened. Picking up scraps of info from the people clustered around and making comments inadvertently he had closed his eyes and appeared to be sleeping while he concentrated.

Oliver heard the various observations and theories of the metal, belonging to a robot or gun perhaps, possibly man made, definitely ancient and not impervious to water and oxygen clearly. He wondered himself what it was from but didn't bother inputting any of his own thoughts, mostly because he had no idea and no experience with this sort of thing. He fiddled idely with his coat and the double sidearm holster on his chest.

Hearing Miko speak up about exploring and finding things got his attention however, that's what he'd come along for the thrills of looking for something unknown in a strange place.

"All these theories are quite interesting, as is the prospect of searching for more of such artifacts. So let me be the first to say this." Oliver stood up towering above most of the others due to his tall thin frame and set his hands on the table, "Oliver Finneketty will be lending his services to this ship and her captain in all their exploits and endeavours. If not for the reward but simply the experience." He smirked knowing the other bounty hunters would be calling him an idiot in their heads for not going along for money.

"But fret not loot seekers, I've got my eye on the prize and I'm not the guy who'll be sacrificing reward for crew mates."
 
The odd contraption showed promise in Reman's mind, but alas he was at a complete loss of words at what it's function was for. The aspect of adventure had him intrigued, but not to the same extent as the others. His mind was racing at the possibility what kind of tech he could "take inspiration" from, and to what extent this old civilization got in terms of technology. He idly begun doodling in his journal, vaguely in the shape of this apparatus, trying to ascertain the function well before it is told to him.

In a slightly snarky tone, he spoke to the exposition leader, stating: "If you're going to show me some stuff float around for half an hour be my guest, but you've lost me in terms of what you're trying to get at."

He makes the motions to try and touch the giant discs, and briefly before making contact, jerks back to his seat and draws more of what he could assume the device is for. He briefly gives one more remark before going silent.

"Is it for some sort of map projection?"
 
"I have to agree with them. Through the technology is of interest to me, a decayed-if still surprisingly functioning-bauble won't exactly give us much cash to work on. Well, it at least seems to function."

Arbles grumbled something else incomprehensible as she finished off the second packet is trail mix. Speaking in the bounds of normal language again, she followed through, "And what is this anomaly you mention anyways? Do you have a kilogram of neodymium in your pocket or something?"
 
Marie tilted her head at the tiny little redhead.

"I'm a Sage," she replied. "Electrokinetic. Passively I can sense electrons and electron movement in the air. And while it is a decayed object, the fact I can detect the electromagnetic waves from the object gravitating the three objects towards it, and yet I don't feel any tug at all from my tools, is something notable. Evidently whoever made this managed to violate a small handful of the laws of electromagnetism."

Oh, you too? Welcome to the party or... Something like that. I think three of us makes a coven, not two. Well, that at least clears that up..." Arbles sighed quietly as she readjusted her position in her seat, glancing down to her snack-filled bag for a moment before looking back up. "Thermokinetic, by the way.
 
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Dahlia held her hand up for a moment, giving a small smile at some of the members lack of faith. As Reman's hand came close, thee small mechanical thing soon lurched upwards, shakily propping itself off the table with the resting an inch above the three shields like a cradle. The decayed orb made a disgruntled beep that sounded more like a pitched "BERRT", whatever speaker inside of it aged and borderline destroyed. The 'head' started to spin around at angled intervals, as if taking a look around the crowded study. Perhaps, Dahlia wasn't talking to the crew in her last statement.

The decayed machine made another disgruntled beep as it proceeded to limber around the table on its three remote legs. Whatever acute forces were keeping the thing together dragged the rest of the body along with it as it started to make delayed corrections in its path. Whatever it was, it showed some form of artificial thought. Dahlia turned her head to the quarrel of engineers and sages. "I call it Bert. And... I don't know entirely what it's made of, some identifiable metals were copper and some unusual steel alloys. The insides though... they're something weird."

The corroded drone, 'Bert', soon came to a stop. It seemed unsure of what to do, and almost blissfully unaware to the damage of its body or the amount of people watching it. "Some of the symbols I've managed to read off it, they match other sources." Dahlia opened up her blue book, flipping over a few it's laminated pages to a page dedicated entirely to a listing of symbols. They somewhat resembled an alphabet. Another piece of paper had transitioned graphite copies of the embossing on the little drone, which matched closely to the inked series. Beside those were sketches of some internal parts... they looked similar to a motherboard in shape but had very unusual circuitry to it and appeared to be set in some kind of gel, according to the notes.

The scholar smiled at Oliver as he was the first arrival to join officially. "Fantastic!" She then cleared her throat, picking up the small Bert. It's little legs lazing flopped behind it, never coming too far out of range of the sphere. She then addressed some of the questions. "What I'm getting at is, If this is anything to go by, whatever we'll dig up out north is bound it be something interesting." She turned back to the slide briefly, flicking it to a close-up of the route. "Fortunately there are a few settlements along the way. Refueling and restocking won't require a whole lot of backtracking on our part. Once we reach the site, we can figure out what else could lay beyond."
 
"I guess I'll come too. There's plenty of things to do; I'd bet. I'd like to figure out how these things work." Marie continued, glancing at Arbitrated.

More sanity would always be better on this trip -- and more Sages too. Most independent ones that cleaned themselves up nicely were reliable. Most of them.

"What do you think it says on Bert, though?" Marie asked.
 
"Okay, now I'm interested. Though I must admit, your naming choices are not too far from something a celebrity would use." The somewhat sassy redhead straightened up properly again before resuming, "And I like the sound of safe ports. Or at least, ports in general. The only thing I hate more than staying still is going back and forth for a long time, several times. It's too predictable. It's actually pretty likely that if we find something of note, as soon as attention is drawn to us we WILL have competition."
 
To think that Juryrig was going to touch that thing... And that he missed his chance to do so!

"It's small, it's rusty, it's floaty, and it makes the most adorable little noise I ever heard! Why couldn't they have just installed synthetic cheeks in that thing so I could pinch 'em?!"

Juryrig leaned over the table, and laid down on it, his Alchemical Horse kindly propping his legs so the manchild could look at Bert with huge puppy dog eyes. Both of the mad engineer's hands were itching to snatch it just so it could take a look, and he giggled openly. He paid absolutely no attention to what Dahlia was saying; he'll just say 'Yes' anyway.

Overcome with a roaring childish instinct, Juryrig booped Bert right in the lens.
 
Miko took out his hand cannon and flipped open the revolver chamber. It make a fairly loud clank as it popped open. With a flick of his wrist he snapped the chamber closed again. "Count me in, someone got to keep that competition honest." His voice taking on a serious tone. "Just leave it to justice to keep the peace." As he moved to holster his weapon, in gold letters on the side of it read "Justice".
 
He wasn't impressed at first, but, then again, the entire table was swarmed by engineers and scientists the moment Dahlia had set the drone up. It were as though a slab of meat were tossed to piranha. Deimos' only response: lean back in his seat and wait for the eggheads to finish pecking at the chunks of metal. He crosses his arms under his cloak, eyes drooping once more into a vacant stare that ghosted around from one furious researcher to another. He wasn't going to admit that he was excited about it. The fact, though, that Dahlia seemed so proud of it despite its lack of any function besides creating a series of floating metal bits did, however, bring a little grin to the half-anthro's face.

Or, at least that was what he thought. He could have never expected a device such as that. A drone whose metallic body seemed to hobble about the table. It looked drunk. It looked concussed. Even its sounds reminded him of a back-alley cat that had been out in the elements for four too many years. And yet, it was a fascinating even for the non-engineering inclined. Guess this is how she convinced some poor fogey to let her reach elbow-deep into his wallet. Well, not poor in the sense that matters. Then again, it would be foolish to not sponsor such an expedition, considering how concrete this evidence is.

In three years, Dahlia had accomplished more than he could have ever imagined.

He remembers the trunk full of trash. The papers with frantic scribblings and attempted rune-cracking. The glimmer in her eyes that appeared whenever she would talk about it during the expedition three years ago. He underestimated her by a long shot. Never would he have imagined these ambitions to go beyond chasing a myth.

But now, a part of that myth is standing and toddling about the wood. What little he could see between the gaps in others' arms and elbows was enough to convince him that wherever they're going, an adventure is going to unravel. "Never thought I'd see an expedition to the northernmost reaches of Ayenee all because of a bunch of beeping, walking rocks..." He shakes his head. "If that doesn't scream 'Trip of a lifetime', I don't know what does. Dahlia, if you've still got space available, I'd like to join your crew. I can't pass an opportunity like this up."
 
Finnegan had to admit, he was surprised when, what he thought was a joint of some kind, stood up and began to hobble around like some kind of newborn animal, something that the merc found adorable, not that he'd let those around him know it.

"Well, I was in from the start and I still am" he voiced as he took a step back from the table.

It was then that he tensed up slightly at the sound of a revolver, but when he didn't hear the sound of it being cocked, he eased up, looking at the man who was fiddling with his gun like some kind of walking cliche of what a bounty hunter was meant to be.

"You practice that line in front of a mirror? because i swear to god if you keep spouting cheesy one liners like that and try to make yourself out to be some kind of morally flawless individual, then I'll laugh when you find yourself making a grey choice" he was a little ticked off and it showed in his voice.

Sure they had both killed people, but Finnegan did it to line his pockets, not to be some kind of white knight who claimed to wiped the scum from the backside of the world.

"That's a fancy gun you have there, but engravings... offer no tactical advantage whatsoever"
 
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Grey three clapped his hands together, and triumphantly finger gunned in the direction of the dying, rusty drone. "Absolutely knew it." It wasn't always that Grey had such an on the mark hypothesis like that. But oh boy did it feel nice to have your ego stroked like that. Grey supposed that it wouldn't due to beable to take it apart on the spot. Instead he turned to the one calling out for this expedition so fiercely.

"I'm more than sold." A smirk grew as the gaunt scientist/explorer imagined the many grand things they would find- and what could be done with them. This one alone- the ability to completely control the, supposedly electromagnetic fields around itself to move with its three legs- presumabely missing one, was worth the trip over already.

"Especially if i can... Take a look later." He gestured at 'bert'. The look he gave would certainly send chills down any true intelligence's spine if it was directed at them with that sort of line.
 
Churchill was intrigued by the pieces of metal. Not that he had any sort of mechanical or scientific interest in them. He just found them to be pretty. He didn't want to look like an idiot in front of the science types, so he didn't try to add to the conversation. However, it was still pretty clear that he wasn't that intelligent on the matter, because he stared at the trinkets like a lost puppy.

But Arbitrated's words perked his interest. He looked to her and grinned.

"Excellent! Let them come! I feared this crusade would be dull!" chuckled the knight to the sage.
 
“Why do you want potentially mercenary gunships to come after us...?” Marie started, and then thought a little bit.

They had Sages. This was bad, but they were also Sages. They weren’t magicians but they were good enough.

They also had a very unstable engineer. While he could blow up the ship, it meant he could blow up other ships too. And she couldn’t refute the fact that there were a lot of trained fighters standing near her — don’t panic, Marie — so boarding was suicide.

And they had her. A trained professional in her field, as much hands-on experience as she had book study. While she knew she wasn’t too solid yet with her abilities, she didn’t doubt the power of her wit.

“Actually, maybe we could stand a chance against them...”
 
"You said your name was fin right, sorry I'm shortening for time, i like the way you're thinking here and i like your style but man ther is one tactical advantage. You feel cool while using them." Oliver smiled at the man, he genuinely was interested in his armour and choice of weapons it wasn't something he usually saw in the underworld of his city but thats what meeting new people is about right.

Oliver watched as juryrig played with the device on the table and considered a witty remark before dismissing the idea, he didn't feel like getting kicked out for starting a fight and although he was in it for treasure he just wanted to get away from his normal life. Oliver was good at a few things, one of which was picking and choosing friends and enemies and juryrig gave off a vibe that would feel very bad coming from an enemy. The other man with the fancy gun, he hadn't caught his name or had missed it but he looked like a fighter and came with his own moral compass which for a merc was bound to point a little further east than true north.

Of course the captain had to be a top priority for getting along with people and as much as he may not want to admit it, oliver liked having an obvious position of power established for him for once. Their captain was the one with all the info and looking around the room he had originally feared some may try to take it from her, but reassessing that observation he realised the crew was more likely to kill each other.

With plenty going through his head the man sat back and eyed juryrig not making any effort to hide his action, he didn't bother questioning the captain either she would tell them what they needed to know and it was better left to the scientific types.
 
Juryrig looked up from Bert to Oliver, while still on the table, looking at the conman with eyes, black and restless, like coal. The pink guns that Oliver carried didn't help but encourage Juryrig to really look at him.

He giggled, pulled his feet onto the table, and attempted to backflip onto his Alchemical Horse. Juryrig, who was carrying a heavy load and obviously isn't a acrobat, ended up bellyflopping onto the contraption instead. The Horse didn't creak, only followed the downward motion of Juryrig in order to cushion his reckless attempt at being cool.

The haversack that Juryrig still wore shifted, indicating that this madman brought more than a six-legged moving table. Though rather than pointing it out, Juryrig struck a questionable pose, and shot a wicked smile back at Oliver, and spoke up.

"Ah don't worry about little ol' me, I ain't gonna be trouble. From a certain point of view." Juryrig said, his words only promising nothing but trouble just from the tone alone. "I'm just exceptionally gifted! One of the best around, guaranteed!"

"In fact, I can look at those pretty pistols of yours, and sit over here just thinkin' to myself: 'Dear gods, they need a lil' ol' pick-me-up!' Tell you what, I have a card right here..." Juryrig slung the haversack over his shoulder, plopping the heavy leather bag right in front of him, and dug into it. After a few seconds of digging around, he pulled out a rectangular plate of tin that is only a few inches big, and a bulky laser toy that you'd use for cats.

Of course, when the madman used the laser over the tin, it would be quite apparent that it was actually a low-powered handheld cutting laser, and he was carving something into the small piece of metal. Once he finished carving, he blew on the hot metal and tossed it over to Oliver.

"That's my name, my address, my atmospheric altitude, and my work number!" Juryrig stated. Sure enough, Juryrig printed business information onto the tin. He gave Oliver a business card with ludicrous information.

For Juryrig, it was just a matter of... Why the heck not? He even could have made more of these!
 
Half-Scared by the sudden movement of the thing, Reman flinched briefly then headed back to his seat. He wasn't really sure what to think of this ordeal. Such drones weren't out of place in the modern world, but from how it moved and looked, he could have sworn that it was older than he was.

As he contemplated that, he erased a large portion of his journal, still observing Bert's motions and sketching exactly what he saw. The first moment though that he looks up, he sees a certain... madman carve his business information onto a gun. Reasoning was perplexing, but he instinctively wrote down the details he could see, though fragmented at best.

Struggling with his own mentality, he tried to restrain himself from thinking or talking about the clanking wreck, or what possibly could he have with him that could be possibly worse than a six-legged pedestal. "Hey uh- You uh-" He moves his hand briefly to the toolkit before placing it back on the table. "You might want to fi- keep an eye on that thing you're putting your weight onto."
 
Lilli nodded with an expression of silent assent on her features. In truth, she did not care exactly where the group went, just that they were led somewhere far from home. Although the prospect of finding novel treasures and discoveries enticed her somewhat. If the adventure offered her further opportunity to develop her magical skills to expand her knowledge, then perhaps it was a given that she would come along.

The antics of some of the madder scientists and engineers in the group visibly fazed her. In contrast to conventional wisdom, she did not believe that the behavior of socially disagreeable and eccentric individuals Juryrig was tied with their intelligence. There was no doubt that Juryrig was a scientifically minded and inventive individual. However, she believed that his sometimes childish shenanigans were a separate fault of his own, relating more to his explicit lack of emotional and social intelligence. In many ways, Lilli could relate to Juryrig. Like him, she was deficient in social intelligence, although her deficiencies manifested as a quick tendency to attachment and submission, rather than overt madness...
 
"Eh?" The mad engineer raised an eyebrow to one of the new guys that he hadn't properly introduced himself to. Some guy with a toolkit and wearing similar clothes, looked kind of childish with those doe eyes and the wavering voice.

Juryrig dismissed the words of Reman, waving his hand at the other engineer. "Nah nah, this thing? This, I'll have you know, is my Alchemical Horse." He stated matter-of-factly, planting a pointer finger on its oak surface. "I designed this lil' girl all myself for purely utilitarian purposes, and after dozens of failed tests that I, Juryrig, Master Alchemical Engineer, secretly enjoyed witnessing, I made a finished product that has yet to fail any job she was made to do!"

The Alchemical Horse chuffed and huffed, almost as if it were demonstrating some degree of positive emotion. "This baby could comfortably carry four hundred and sixty pounds, nine times her own weight! And she'd only lose... Lemme check..." Juryrig started to count on his fingers and hum, while still lying belly-first on the Horse. "Carry the four, add that to seven, gets me eleven... Assuming it's a vacuum environment and the weight is evenly distributed over the exact area as the table surface, it's only gonna have a speed deficit of fifteen miles per hour, dropping the mileage to twenty miles per hour."

"I mean, come on now, would you really doubt such strong numbers?" Juryrig asked, looking at Reman right in the eyes with a childish look of glee pride. "I've hauled a couple of carriages with this thing by itself, and you're asking me to keep a eye on it?" Juryrig giggled at Reman, shaking his head. "Don't be so entitled. It doesn't suit you." He said with a wicked grin that stretched from ear to ear.

The mad engineer was, clearly, really prideful when it comes to his work.
 
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