Finally! Something I can talk about...
"Artifactory is the science of designing, fabricating, servicing and repairing lux-crafted tools and systems. Though there are some alternative methods for creating things as well, which is in fact one of my specialties."
Wait...? Is it that uncommon for people to hear of artifactors? Are we that obscure or does he simply not know?
Something was odd about him for sure.
Rac'cona: Between worlds [Fanfic RP- full, no more players]
Now in her element, Kathryn began to relax her guard a bit.
"Alternative methods is a very broad term that encompasses prettymuch anything that doesn't depend on lux for control or main mechanism. You may have seen luftships, right? Well, their propulsion is luxcraft, but their suspension by means of bouyancy in air falls under 'alternative methods'."
"Alternative methods is a very broad term that encompasses prettymuch anything that doesn't depend on lux for control or main mechanism. You may have seen luftships, right? Well, their propulsion is luxcraft, but their suspension by means of bouyancy in air falls under 'alternative methods'."
Conquering the Universe, one class at a time...
"Well, now that depends. There's an old phrase: 'Jack of all trades, master of none.' Same applies here. I can fix a broader range of equipment and design new stuff, but I may not be as good at heavily luxcrafted items of great specialty. The upside is that not alot of research has been done on some of the alternative methods, and there's some really exciting places for discovery still left. The field is wide open, mostly."
Conquering the Universe, one class at a time...
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Mjolnir
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Noticing the kits in an animated "no adults allowed" conversation, he smiled slightly as he turned to Falcon.
"It could be better," Kyvan admitted, "There aren't any big contracts coming in, as you know. I'm getting by on the small repairs that I do for the folks around here."
He laughs. "I haven't been missing any meals, if that's what you're asking," he says, patting his well fed middle.
"It could be better," Kyvan admitted, "There aren't any big contracts coming in, as you know. I'm getting by on the small repairs that I do for the folks around here."
He laughs. "I haven't been missing any meals, if that's what you're asking," he says, patting his well fed middle.
Kathryn leaned forward, but shook her head when he asked the question.
"No, no I don't. If it were something mechanical, I could probably tell you just about anything about it, but I don't know much about ancient talismans in a historical sense. If you're talking about that rune, though, I might be able to tell something if I could 'kenn' it. I do have a smattering of knowledge in normal luxcraft."
"No, no I don't. If it were something mechanical, I could probably tell you just about anything about it, but I don't know much about ancient talismans in a historical sense. If you're talking about that rune, though, I might be able to tell something if I could 'kenn' it. I do have a smattering of knowledge in normal luxcraft."
Conquering the Universe, one class at a time...
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Kerry Skydancer
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Falcon chuckles. "That's the important thing, isn't it?" He shakes his head, pretending full interest in his conversation while trying to keep an ear on the kits. "Want to hear something crazy? I'm going out past Freeman Downs this trip. I've got official letters from the Church in Sanctuary to some priest who's out trying to convert the gragum, would you believe."
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StrangeWulf13
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He was getting bored. He didn't know why, all the information was quite useful... but he was bored. His eavesdropping spell, barely detectable, let him listen in as much as he wished, but artifactor talk was not his field. And he didn't care much for idle chit-chat about a smith's business and letters to crackpot priests. The talisman attracted his interest, but only for a moment. Kid could've picked it up anywhere.
Still, while his ears were boring him, his eyes provided great entertainment. He noticed how agitated each of the kits became when the other switched the conversation back to them. They'd done it several times, dodging each other's questions. Both had something to hide. He'd bet good money the young lad had the bigger secret. He still hadn't taken off his cloak.
His drinks were getting low, and so was his patience. He itched to be doing something, anything. He'd have to move closer soon and start probing and testing the two. The others wouldn't like it, but he could care less about the opinions of a smith and archivist. They hadn't seen the things he had.
Finishing the last drink, he got up and headed for the table.
Still, while his ears were boring him, his eyes provided great entertainment. He noticed how agitated each of the kits became when the other switched the conversation back to them. They'd done it several times, dodging each other's questions. Both had something to hide. He'd bet good money the young lad had the bigger secret. He still hadn't taken off his cloak.
His drinks were getting low, and so was his patience. He itched to be doing something, anything. He'd have to move closer soon and start probing and testing the two. The others wouldn't like it, but he could care less about the opinions of a smith and archivist. They hadn't seen the things he had.
Finishing the last drink, he got up and headed for the table.
I'm lost. I've gone to find myself. If I should return before I get back, please ask me to wait. Thanks.
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Mjolnir
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"Convert the gragum?" Kyvan said, shocked, "Is he insane? They'll ..."
Kyvan paused to think about it a little.
"You know," he said after a short pause, "That might actually work. I think that lad from Freeman Downs might have broken their spirits enough that a good preacher might reach them. He's a braver rac'conian than I am, though."
OOC: I'm assuming that Kyvan and Falcon have their backs to the stranger.
Kyvan paused to think about it a little.
"You know," he said after a short pause, "That might actually work. I think that lad from Freeman Downs might have broken their spirits enough that a good preacher might reach them. He's a braver rac'conian than I am, though."
OOC: I'm assuming that Kyvan and Falcon have their backs to the stranger.
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StrangeWulf13
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"Kyvan. Falcon." He gave the briefest greeting required for polite company. His tone was one of business, indicating he didn't come over to shoot the breeze. He caught a glimpse of the medallion shortly before the lad hid it inside his cloak. It wasn't enough; he'd have to find a way to see it later. He stood just behind the two adults, giving them slight glances as they looked up at him, then turned his attention to the kits across the table. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"And who might these two youngin's be that you're treatin' to yer food, Kyvan? Two frozen kits by the look of things."
He hooked his hands in his belt, waiting for a reply. The dance had begun.
"And who might these two youngin's be that you're treatin' to yer food, Kyvan? Two frozen kits by the look of things."
He hooked his hands in his belt, waiting for a reply. The dance had begun.
I'm lost. I've gone to find myself. If I should return before I get back, please ask me to wait. Thanks.
Kathryn had barely begun to examine it when Rayne jerked the item back and slipped it around his neck and inside his coat as if she'd tried to pocket it herself. She was about to protest -- loudly -- when she saw the warning look in his eyes followed by the briefest feint of gaze back toward his shoulder. Looking in the indicated direction, she saw a newcomer who looked none too friendly. She immediately closed her mouth, cutting off the comment that had nearly slipped.
He had a look that did not invite company, nor instill trust. The others had either sensed it or knew it, because they also tensed and the mood of the 'adult' conversation (being nearly twenty herself, she hardly thought of herself as a kit anymore and was irritated that others obviously still did) had changed from a chatty, talkative sense to strictly business.
While the other two from the bar were not overtly dangerous aside from possibly intentionally or inadvertently advertising her penniless condition to the proprietor. But this new stranger clearly was a very hazardous person to cross, despite the fact that there was no real proof of it such as weapons dripping off his belt or the like, and he was entirely too interested in things outside his own affairs. Kathryn may have been easily distracted from her job, but she was by no means born only yesterday.
She unobtrusively reached into her bag, beside her on the floor where no one would notice, and drew out a black-coated metal contraption that consisted basically of a tube with a handle alongside it. The handle was hollow and connected to a slot in the main tube. The tube was sealed at the end that would face the holder. Inside the handle were a stock of lead projectiles, each with it's own canister of preloaded explosives. Forward of the handle was a small lever for triggering the weapon, and she let her finger rest on it as she brought it to lie on her knee under the table, pointing at the stranger out of sight.
The road was filled with dangers both from her own kind and wandering malevolent forces of nature. She was glad now that she'd thought enough to pack the device she'd designed and carry it with her. The weight was comforting in her hand, and she felt once more like she was regaining control of the situation, even if she was the only one who knew it.
He had a look that did not invite company, nor instill trust. The others had either sensed it or knew it, because they also tensed and the mood of the 'adult' conversation (being nearly twenty herself, she hardly thought of herself as a kit anymore and was irritated that others obviously still did) had changed from a chatty, talkative sense to strictly business.
While the other two from the bar were not overtly dangerous aside from possibly intentionally or inadvertently advertising her penniless condition to the proprietor. But this new stranger clearly was a very hazardous person to cross, despite the fact that there was no real proof of it such as weapons dripping off his belt or the like, and he was entirely too interested in things outside his own affairs. Kathryn may have been easily distracted from her job, but she was by no means born only yesterday.
She unobtrusively reached into her bag, beside her on the floor where no one would notice, and drew out a black-coated metal contraption that consisted basically of a tube with a handle alongside it. The handle was hollow and connected to a slot in the main tube. The tube was sealed at the end that would face the holder. Inside the handle were a stock of lead projectiles, each with it's own canister of preloaded explosives. Forward of the handle was a small lever for triggering the weapon, and she let her finger rest on it as she brought it to lie on her knee under the table, pointing at the stranger out of sight.
The road was filled with dangers both from her own kind and wandering malevolent forces of nature. She was glad now that she'd thought enough to pack the device she'd designed and carry it with her. The weight was comforting in her hand, and she felt once more like she was regaining control of the situation, even if she was the only one who knew it.
Last edited by Aurrin on Sat Jan 22, 2005 5:21 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Conquering the Universe, one class at a time...
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Starfury
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OOC: If anyone could help me out with info on the worship of Yeshua in the Quester-verse, I would greatly appreciate it. I can't afford the Mega Cd's etc right now. If I goof up big time, please let me know. Thanks.
With a sigh the youth in a far corner of the tavern put his quill down. He had been there most of the day reading and taking notes from the tome in front of him. Little sound had come from him except for the scritching of the quill and the whisper of turning pages. Now he rubbed tired eyes and took a deep breath. Standing up, he closed the tome and headed for the bar with a long empty mug. If anyone had bothered to read the title of the book, they would have shook their head in dismissal. The Miracles of Yeshua: Understanding His works in light of use of Luxcraft. was not something commonly found on most bookshelves.
Matching his object of study, the young scholar was clothed in a simple brown robe and warm boots. A pouch attached to his leather belt completed the image of a priest wandering the city. The only oddity was the bulging of his muscles. While not considered "buff," anyone who saw past the robes would know that he worked out enough to be more then average in strength.
The bartender looked up at the young man as he stepped up to the bar. "Ah, Andrew. Finally get your head out of the book, did'ya?" He said with a grin. "Yeah," Andrew replied sheepishly. "I kinda got involved with theories for a while. Real heavy stuff. So how long have I been out?" The bar smiled has he refilled the mug with ale. "Oh... Not long. 'bout four, maybe five hours." Andrew, while very friendly with those he got to meet, had a tendency to lose himself in his books. Often. For long periods of time. The sad part was that he never quite remembered that.
"Four HOURS?" He gasped. "Maybe five," The bartender said. "You know Andrew, you should really get out more. While I'm sure the ladies at the University love men who are smart and bookish and all, I think you might impress them more with a little small talk. Theology can get boring sometimes, and its not the most... endearing subject." The bartender almost laughed at the innocent face Andrew made. "It's not? Why, I never would have known." Andrew exclaimed, sarcasm in almost dripping onto the bar. "C'mon. I know that, but, but... it's so.... refreshing. Besides," he said, now his next words murmured into the mug. "Girls are weird."
The bartender laughed. In all his years, he had never met such nice young man with such horrible luck with women. He suspected that was intentional on Andrews part, at least to some degree. But he couldn't stop trying to wake the poor boy up. "Boy, you just wrapped up the most frustrating thing in the world into three little words." He shook his head. "I would think after studying about Yeshua you would be used to weird."
"Yeshua's not 'weird.' Just not... uh... fully.... known... yeah." Andrew puttered out.
"Like I said, weird."
Andrew made a face at the bartender, then gave up. "Whatever. Weird or not, my books are far more interesting then women. And speaking of... I had better get back to them. If you'll excuse me...." Andrew made to leave. Unfortunately for him, he didn't get very far. "Andrew," The bartender said as he tug the student back around. "Take a break. Hang out. This is a bar, not a library." The bartender got a thought into his head. Why not? It'll at least make me laugh. He thought. "How 'bout you head over to where Falcon and Kyvan are sitting. I'm sure you'll find something. to talk about with them. And the girl's about you're age too, I wager."
Andrew rolled his eyes. "Thanks, but..."
"Go. Now." The command, though kind, was not to be denied. So with one last sigh of protest, Andrew sulked over to the table where quite a crowd was now gathered. He thought about making a break for his table and books, but felt the Bartender's gaze on his back and knew he'd never get away with it. Drat. Now he actually had to meet new people.
With a sigh the youth in a far corner of the tavern put his quill down. He had been there most of the day reading and taking notes from the tome in front of him. Little sound had come from him except for the scritching of the quill and the whisper of turning pages. Now he rubbed tired eyes and took a deep breath. Standing up, he closed the tome and headed for the bar with a long empty mug. If anyone had bothered to read the title of the book, they would have shook their head in dismissal. The Miracles of Yeshua: Understanding His works in light of use of Luxcraft. was not something commonly found on most bookshelves.
Matching his object of study, the young scholar was clothed in a simple brown robe and warm boots. A pouch attached to his leather belt completed the image of a priest wandering the city. The only oddity was the bulging of his muscles. While not considered "buff," anyone who saw past the robes would know that he worked out enough to be more then average in strength.
The bartender looked up at the young man as he stepped up to the bar. "Ah, Andrew. Finally get your head out of the book, did'ya?" He said with a grin. "Yeah," Andrew replied sheepishly. "I kinda got involved with theories for a while. Real heavy stuff. So how long have I been out?" The bar smiled has he refilled the mug with ale. "Oh... Not long. 'bout four, maybe five hours." Andrew, while very friendly with those he got to meet, had a tendency to lose himself in his books. Often. For long periods of time. The sad part was that he never quite remembered that.
"Four HOURS?" He gasped. "Maybe five," The bartender said. "You know Andrew, you should really get out more. While I'm sure the ladies at the University love men who are smart and bookish and all, I think you might impress them more with a little small talk. Theology can get boring sometimes, and its not the most... endearing subject." The bartender almost laughed at the innocent face Andrew made. "It's not? Why, I never would have known." Andrew exclaimed, sarcasm in almost dripping onto the bar. "C'mon. I know that, but, but... it's so.... refreshing. Besides," he said, now his next words murmured into the mug. "Girls are weird."
The bartender laughed. In all his years, he had never met such nice young man with such horrible luck with women. He suspected that was intentional on Andrews part, at least to some degree. But he couldn't stop trying to wake the poor boy up. "Boy, you just wrapped up the most frustrating thing in the world into three little words." He shook his head. "I would think after studying about Yeshua you would be used to weird."
"Yeshua's not 'weird.' Just not... uh... fully.... known... yeah." Andrew puttered out.
"Like I said, weird."
Andrew made a face at the bartender, then gave up. "Whatever. Weird or not, my books are far more interesting then women. And speaking of... I had better get back to them. If you'll excuse me...." Andrew made to leave. Unfortunately for him, he didn't get very far. "Andrew," The bartender said as he tug the student back around. "Take a break. Hang out. This is a bar, not a library." The bartender got a thought into his head. Why not? It'll at least make me laugh. He thought. "How 'bout you head over to where Falcon and Kyvan are sitting. I'm sure you'll find something. to talk about with them. And the girl's about you're age too, I wager."
Andrew rolled his eyes. "Thanks, but..."
"Go. Now." The command, though kind, was not to be denied. So with one last sigh of protest, Andrew sulked over to the table where quite a crowd was now gathered. He thought about making a break for his table and books, but felt the Bartender's gaze on his back and knew he'd never get away with it. Drat. Now he actually had to meet new people.
Aurrin wrote:OOC:
Yeah, she's describing a gun. It's roughly equivalent to a .50 Desert Eagle in power and rounds, owing to the fact that she didn't have the proper equipment for fabrication of smaller diameters -- though it's now something of a blessing in disguise. No, unless you were sitting right next to her, you didn't see it. =P
Gotta jump in here again.
point of order:Though the rac cona daimh have developed firearms, there's a multi-layered reason--- outside of metal shortage--- that they don't make or carry that many.
The RacConans are less than three feet tall. They're the size of TODDLERS.
At that size scale, I suspect even something as small as a .22 pistol would be almost too unwieldy to use. And for sure, something with the power of a .50 desert eagle would break both her wrists the first time she fired it, and knock her ass over teakettle to boot.
You see, in designing guns, the racconans are up against the catch 22 of SIZE AND WEIGHT versus POWER. Anything small and light enough for them to use is going to be of too small a calibre to be of much solid use--- especially in a culture where a good percentage of the population can cast force fields and fling lightning bolts and fireballs from their hands.
The few guns they do have are consequently large, powerful, and unwieldy---- and generally reserved for dealing with dangerous creatures that have demonstrated a brute resistance to magic. The boomslang the guardsmen used in the swamp, for instance, is about the size and power of a 12 gauge shotgun, and it almost takes two racconans to hold and fire it. The smallest gun considered feasible or even worth the waste in metal is the length of a racconan's forearm, and has to be wielded with both hands and fired from the hip, suspended from an over-the-shoulder sling.
And they're generally considered a joke.
If there's a "common" self-defense weapon, it would be a stun staff--- the lightest tap from one of these and it feels like you've "hit your funny bone" in every joint of your body. Even uncharged, it's a nice stout fighting staff with a heavy lead core.....
There's a wide variety of "wonder widgets" that come and go in popularity. Various rings, amulets, wands, et cetera... but regardless of what enchantments it may have most rac conans prefer to carry something along the lines of a heavy cudgel or sharp blade. After all, if all else fails, you can still whack 'em in the knee or jab 'em with the pointy end....
"What was that popping noise ?"
"A paradigm shifting without a clutch."
--Dilbert
"A paradigm shifting without a clutch."
--Dilbert
It's christianity.starfury wrote:OOC: If anyone could help me out with info on the worship of Yeshua in the Quester-verse, I would greatly appreciate it. I can't afford the Mega Cd's etc right now. If I goof up big time, please let me know. Thanks.
Yeshua is Jesus in Hebrew.
The Sojourners are, essentially, Baptist. The Universalists are Catholic (Dark Age catholic, as in crusades, witch burnings, etc.)
"What was that popping noise ?"
"A paradigm shifting without a clutch."
--Dilbert
"A paradigm shifting without a clutch."
--Dilbert
OOC:
As long as we are on the subject of weapons: What is the status of aerodynamics in the Seven Villages? I am specifically interested in thrown weapons technology. My character doesn't use thrown weapons, but his weapons draw some of their design from throwing blades (which nobody would know, because he hasn't yet had reason to draw them in public...at least as the plot line to this point CURRENTLY stands (meaning that nobody decided to have retroactively sparred with him)).
As long as we are on the subject of weapons: What is the status of aerodynamics in the Seven Villages? I am specifically interested in thrown weapons technology. My character doesn't use thrown weapons, but his weapons draw some of their design from throwing blades (which nobody would know, because he hasn't yet had reason to draw them in public...at least as the plot line to this point CURRENTLY stands (meaning that nobody decided to have retroactively sparred with him)).