[Closed] [Eastern Vienda riverside] Clocking is that?!

[Maro Seran]

14th Hour, morning, 12th day of Roalis

Mid day was almost upon them, Maro knew as he walked the river path. Boots displacing dirt and kicking about small pebbles as he eyed the tracks before him. He had been making an attempt to practice his tracking this morning, at the koment the kint had no need for meats, deciding to break out the perserved venison and hogs meat as they journeyed towards their destination.

The two previous days they'd decided to stop to rest the animals and themselves from the long travel, sometimes a couple of days to simply relax was needed before they ventured further.

So Maro had taken the time to travel the river path, having spotted dreah deer tracks eariler and decided to track them. Dressed in his drab hunting furs, the wick had no reason to believe he'd be meeting amyone here this far out, his bow strung on his back amd dagger sheathed snuggly behind his back, the Wick thought he was having a good show of it.

His eyes told him it was a small herd, judging by the number of hoofprints, there could have been no more than five. The prints left behind a shade different than the the dirt surrounding told him it was recent, perhaps a couple of hours, perhaps more he couldnt quite say.

As he walked the trail, leavimg his own tracks behind no doubt for some curious person to follow, he watched the distance between their steps. It seemed they were going at a leaisurely pace much like himself.

Each step formed a chain of prints, broken only when the herd stopped to drink from the river, lingering a bit before moving onwards. Conseqiently the prints left behind were fresher, the soil softer and of course... their leavings softer as well with a very defined scent.

Maro mused a bit, pondering that if given time he'd come back here later on to see if he could hunt them himself for his own uses. If they stopped near Old Rose, he could bag one.and bitcher to sell its meat to someone there, fish was their normal deal wasnt it? Perhaps some venison would freshen their day and fetch the hunter some money for his pockets witout having to break into his own savings or handouts drok his Daobrunno.

Then after a bit the trail grew erratic, as if the deer were startled by something that had them step into the river before making a mad run way back onto land!

His eyes turned to find a much different trail... this one more akin to a wheel from a wagon. Maro knelt down to it, unlike a wagon whatever left this trail seemed to displace more dirt and it seemed more erratic, the line breaking when it collided with small obstacles and pressing them into dirth.

In fact the indentation left behind seemed particualry strange. The Kints his fami travelled in where usually heavily loaded, their wheels pressing deeply to leave bheind such marks and from what Maro could see is that whatever this single wheeled thing was it left behind a similar mark, did such a thing that could carry such weight wxist in slite of being one wheeled?

He ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to make of it, but it snagged his curiousity. Eventually he would reach the end of the trail to a sight of some odd looking thing.


"What the clocking hells is that?!"

[Gale]

Outside Vienda | 14th Hour, Morning

12 Roalis 2720

Gale had chosen this particular day to test the Steel Horse outside of the city limits; it was a clear enough day, relatively comfortable with low winds making it optimal for testing conditions. Given they had spent the last few days locked away within the forge to catch up with requisitions and orders it was a good change of pace that the metal smith was more than willing to partake in. With a pack full of tools, a half-gallon full of kerosene and a flask of water, Gale wheeled the Steel Horse from their forge, out through the morning activity that clogged the city streets. The rest of them was their usual dishevelled self; a tangled mess of hair, the rough leather boiler suit hung half open, goggles resting upon their crown while leather gloves protected their digits. They gave a sharp inhale as they took in the morning air, loaded the top fire piston into the ignition hole and did the last of their safety checks on the vehicle - because it was a vehicle, Gale had to accept that now. Topped up with kerosene and water, Gale pulled back the spring in the fire piston and released it; the inside hissed as the spark flared within. Another pull back, it hissed again; the third time the engine juddered into life. It released a putter, the slow gradual turn of the crank shaft rotating, the pistons squeaking into life. It chuffed, a low satisfying clunk as parts continued their rotation, the small vibration traversing up their limbs.

Gale inhaled again, deeper this time as they swung a leg over and perched upon the seat, their feet flat on the ground. It was clicked into gear on the handle, the smith straightened their back as they steeled their soul for what was next with a quiet mantra beneath their breath.

"Just like riding a bike."

It was not like riding a bike.

The Steel Horse jerked forward beneath their touch, the smith snapped their feet up onto the footrests as it pulled away. Frame wobbling, their fingers curled tighter around the handlebars as they focused on maintaining balance. They gradually increased their speed, the palpitations gathering in their chest as they felt the sting of the wind against their features. They bounced over every bump, jostling as they controlled the steering and disappeared off down country lanes.

They took the River road; eyes wide as they watched the green of summer open up before them and the verdant shades cast shadows over the path. They fumbled awkwardly with their left hand for their goggles, pulling them down over their eyes and returning it to the vigorous grip on the handlebars. The scent of burning kerosene followed them, the constant chuff of noise and the indentations left on the road marking their passage. The scarf trailed behind them, the tools clattering as they found a comfortable speed to stick at and continued their journey. For every wince there was a turn of the head in curiosity, the landscape ever-shifting around them faster than if they were riding a pedal bicycle.

With it Gale felt their body grow lighter, the previous dread that lingered melting away and growing into calm. They went with each bump and snare in the road, instead of resisting they bounced, knees absorbing the small shocks - they made a note to check the suspension and look at tweaking the front wheel fork for a smoother ride. It was the minor details they had to iron out to make the whole experience that more comfortable. That was not to say they were coming out bruised, by the inexperienced Smith in the realm of cycling knew it could be better. Perhaps something with springs would help.

For a time they continued to ride; listening to the ever chuffing engine, leaning to the side as they snaked the Steel Horse down the path. It was only as they felt the engine growing warm by their ankle that they realised it was best to stop. They released the accelerator, pumped on the brakes - a little too hard the first time, causing Gale to jerk roughly forward - before squeezing with a gentler touch. Eventually, they came to a stop, the engine slowing to a near grind as they planted both feet upon the ground. Another minute of waiting, the engine stalled out and stopped.

Dismounting, Gale set up its leaning stand - two sturdy steel arms that unhooked from the side and pivoted to the ground - removed their tools and began to do the checks.

The engine was still warm, they could feel the heat a few inches away. As for the water tank, it was a similar heat, so taking up a rag they unscrewed the cap. Steam poured forth, the condensation smothered Gale's lenses, the hand swatting away the moisture as it hissed into the summer air. They chose this moment to step away and leave the machine to cool on its own, the goggles lifted from their face and the eyes blinking. The sunlight made them wince, the kerosene fumes leaving the faint odour that reminded them of burning sulphur and coal smoking out across the river. They took a perch upwind of the Steel Horse on the bank, flipping out their tools and contemplating the tweaks they may have to make in the field.

It was all a matter of waiting patiently for it to cool; then they could begin to work.

Nature existed around them; deer roamed some distance down the riverside, the faint whistling of birds and chattering of squirrels tickled at their ears, insects buzzing alongside the groan of wood and leaf was carried in the wind. It was a far cry from the city sounds, they did not rattle against the skull or pollute the senses with smog and grey. Lungs that would normally wheeze instead eased and the occasional hacking cough was reduced to a throaty grumble. But despite it all, it did not stop the smith from lighting up a cigarette - Cherrywood and Co, whatever that brand was - and tasting the mellow, walnut taste that permeated from the tobacco. At least, until they were interrupted.

Gale gave a lean from their seat when they heard the voice. The brow furrowed, green eyes squinting in the direction of the speaker.

Male. Human? Accented. Too far away to feel for field.

He was a distance, but Gale did not miss the bow sticking from behind his shoulder.

Armed. Bow. Traditional weapon, velocity driven. Scruffy. Well worn clothing. Travelled. Maybe not human. Wick?

The frown deepened, the lips twisting as they pinched the cigarette between them. Removing it, Gale spoke up, a single hand raised in a half, informal greeting - though their eyes gave a check the wrench was within grasping range.

"It's a bicycle." They began with a half-truth, "Dunnae mind it Kov, just got a bit hot and now it's doin' a wee cool."

A bit was perhaps an understatement; a steady stream of steam was still pluming out from the open cap and escaping into the air. It was mildly surprising considering Gale filled it to the top; they would have to check for leaks. For now, they would just have to play nice with the stranger on the road.

Gale cleared their throat, opened their pack of cigarettes and thumbed the paper roll-ups inside.

"Ye want a smoke, stranger?" They gave a small shake of the cigarette case, "Ye're doing a mighty bit of ogglin' there. You ne seen a bicycle before?"

Gale sighed, pulled a face, and then promptly spoke bluntly at him.

"Why do you have a bow?"

[Maro Seran]

Maro blinked, not once, not twice, but what felt like multiple times in quick succession. He knew what bicycles were, just because his fami's lifestyle lended to them to live out in the forests and countryside it did not mean they didn't know what things like bikes were. He was just sure that most bikes didn't look like that, Yes, it was two wheeled, yes it had handlebars, and yes one from a glance could assume it was a bicycle.... everything else didn't. At least that was what Maro assumed.

"Maro Seran has seen bikes!"

Maro said, almost petulantly and somewhat embarrassed by his own slack jaw gaze.

"Its just.....most bikes don't bellow out steam or have some sort of smell to them"

He added, then he raised his hand palm facing the... from the looks of the individual, human? They certainly talked like one, and from their complexion, a rough and tumble one. His mind had already registered them as male given their posture and clothing,

"Ah no thank you, Maro does not smoke, its just not his thing"

Plus smoking left a scent on the breath, and while Maro doubted any prey he hunts would comment on the scent of his breath any time soon, he'd also rather not risk being handicapped by it, his own mind imagining an unlikely scenario of him just breathing through his mouth and having given away his position just because he didn't bother to clean his mouth of the scent of cheese.

Then came the sudden question which made Maro raise his brow, did this fellow think him sort of bandit to ask that? Marro frowned a bit then shrugged, well it wasn't like it wasn't a fair question, just sudden, and really their attitude was quite calm for someone who would have probably been robbed by some highwayman.


""I use it for hunting, Maro's a hunter"

His eyes then gazed down to the tracks left behind by the peculiar mode of transportation, then the to machine that look like some took a bike, broke it down and then made it something bike-like but not quite the traditional mode.

"I was tracking down deer to get the lay of the land, see where they drank and rested. But then I found their tracks to be well... startled by something and then a different kind of track left by what looked to be single wheel."

He then jutted his chin towards the bike, keeping his distance lest he gave reason for this person to feel threatened. then he circled around eyeing it with curiosity.

"If its a bike why does it bellow out steam and smells... well, like those factories in the cities Maro assumes"

Maro had been to vienda before after all, to use an example, before the no visting Wick policy came into place. It wasn't quite that smell, but it was similar enough to evoke such memories. He knelt down a fair distance infront of the bike, tilting his head at it.

"Is it noisy like a factory? If so explains why the deer were panicked, skittish creatures you know"

[Gale]

Outside Vienda | 14th Hour, Morning

12 Roalis 2720

Gale gave Maro Seran, they picked up at least that was his given name, a long hard look. Their fingers curled the tin back, slipping it into an inside pocket and took a puff of their cigarette.

Ah, seems we have someone with a full toolset.

The smith turned their attention away, focusing out across the river and the deep flowing waters. Somewhere in the distance, the faint smoke of a paddle steamer plumed from the horizon, though where it exactly was Gale could not tell; it was probably hidden behind some riverbend making its slow chug to or from Vienda.

"See ye got a fine eye there Mister Seran." They attempted to blow rings of smoke like their father, instead, it was puffs of balls, "And a hunter? Ye must have a fine eye for that thing to be out here."

Of course, a hunter made sense. It was probably the closed mind of being a city child that caused Gale to skirt over the possibility of him being a hunter. They wondered briefly if he was insulted by the posed question, he did frown and that normally served a sign of disapproval. Lips pursed together, the fingers picked at the buttons of the boiler suit as they listened to his explanation, the tip of the cigarette buoying as it continued to smoke.

"Oeys. I see." Gale rubbed their ear and sniffed. "I guess it is a wee bit loud out here. Forgive it, I have metal worker ears - my kind has a tendency to become a bit deaf to the crunch of machines."

He was giving a wide berth - good - yet his curiosity had yet to be shaken; was it a mind that was seeking understanding, or simply unable to translate the possibility of what it was. Clapping their hands on their knees, Gale stood. Whoever this Maro was he clearly had a Wick accent, they could not place which tribe exactly but they would probably find out soon enough with some gentle information prying. The next question that was roaming within their skull was what was his intention; was it actual curiosity or was he some agent sent to find out more.

Gods, Gale, he's a hunter here to kill... deer? He most certainly does not have a patron and probably does not have any ulterior motives.

"Alright, ye got me, Mister Curious Seran." They scratched at the grass stains before picking up the wrench. Approaching the bike, the gave the metal frame a tap with the tool and cocked their thumb at it.

"How'd I explain. It..." Gale was looking at him, their eyes coming to settle on his chest - they did not want to lift any higher, the back of their neck crawling as they affixed the notion of trying to explain this machine to someone. "I guess it kind of is a bit like one of those factories, I did take the idea from the big machines and make one smaller. Though this one ne burn coal or work on steam. It.. well..." they tapped the fuel tank at the front and hesitated. They could spew about the scientific understanding of this machine all day, but would Maro be able to keep up or even grasp the concept of combustion and pressure?

The Metal Smith swallowed, took a long drag of their cigarette and then stubbed it out on the bicycle frame.

"Like it burns a fuel, and the..." Gale scratched at their neck, "Well, the pressure from the fuel when burning pushes the crankshaft in the engine round which pushes the pistons and it makes the wheel move." The smith gave a shrug, "The steam it... well the system gets too hot so it needs to keep cool. So there is a coolant tank with water which goes around the engine and saps the heat out-"

Gale brought both of their hands together, the fingers curling tightly around the wrench. Through the gloves, they could feel the faint grooves and scratches, welded bumps that marred its surface. There was a bit of rust gathering along one of the edges, an orange smear that was becoming ingrained on the pitted surface of the wrench.

They puffed their cheeks, "Think... like... when you have a frying pan and you want to cool it quickly. You dunk it in water and it hisses, right?"

Shoulders tensed, a small puff of cheeks, the brow knitted together. Their voice fell into a mumble, "But you can't keep it dunked in water at all times, so a jacket of cool has to move around it to... The muffler to make it quieter needs more work. But it's a lot less than what it was."

Clearing their throat, Gale released their right hand's vice grip and offered it forward to shake.

"Mister Gale Saunders, Metal Smith of Vienda."

[Maro Seran]

Maro felt his chest swell a bit at that, a good eye was important for hunters after all, and it felt good to receive such acknowledgement! Clearly this fellow had good judgement to give such.

On the topic of it being loud Maro couldn’t actually judge, only from the reaction of the animals affected by it during his tracking.


"It is no issue, to be fair with how quiet the forests can be, it can also be louder as a result"


which was true enough, if the thing sounded like a factory it may as well agitate a number of the wildlife. Part of him sighed internally, it will take time to see if the deer resume their habits.

On the upside he had someone to talk with an interesting object. An object that was apparently a bike that smelled.

Maro listened to their explanation, and well…. He listened but he could not quite understand. They spoke of pistons, they spoke of a crankshaft, and while there were words that he could understand, the entire context was lost to him. About the only thing he could understand and even then there were words used that simply escaped. The entire thing was him slowly staring at Gale and simply blinking

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance mister Gale Sanders"

Maro said as he accepted the hand shake, a look of both pleasure at meeting someone new… and confusion as he attempted to digest that entire explanation. A mixture of the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk but with one of his brows arching into clear confusion.


"And Maro will admit, he has failed to understand most of that. But uh… the gist is a bike that has a wheel that moves by itself?"

That had to sound right, he thought? He didn’t know, part of his brain still hurt.

"It… is quite a thing Maro will admit, if Maro hadn’t seen the tracks and lack of footprints he would probably have thought you mad"
Of course airships were a thing, but they were massive things, and regular sea ships moved with something else didn’t they? The one thing they had in common was size so to see something so small that wasn’t an animal that could move itself was quite something.

"Is… this something new in the cities? Maro’s not seen such a thing in Vienda?"

His eyes looked towards the bike again, mind still trying to wrap around it.

"Were it not for the noise and smell Maro could certainly use it for hunting, perhaps attach a wagon to it to carry his captures."

Granted, that was something that could be done with a horse and the like, but perhaps a bike will be faster? And he wouldn’t have to track a bike like a horse should one run away.

[Gale]

Outside Vienda | 14th Hour, Morning

12 Roalis 2720

The hand shake was accepted – a small social victory for Gale -, and the smith gave a small squeeze in response –

Never give a limp handshake.

Before releasing.

There was a lot of information to gather in that moment; firstly there was Maro’s field, a thin wispy sensation that tickled against Gale’s subconscious. Their jaw gave a small twitch in reflex; leaned away as they pushed down the momentary bubbling that grew within their stomach, and drank in the rest of him.

Yellow eyes? Sort of? What is the colour? Wick. Shorter than me. There is a loose hair on the collar of his-

They turned their head away from him, unable to actually hold their sight to him longer than a snatched cursory glance. To stare would draw their attention to what was out of place; they quashed the thought down, their hand itching to reach out and snatch the offending piece from him. From the corner of their vision, his face surrendered to confusion and into an awkward pull of lips-

It’s a smile. You know that.

-and carefully attempt to sound the thoughts together. Gale gave him a nod back, shoulders half rising, before sloping off. At that point they turned their attention to the Steel Horse, turned the wrench around in their grip before stepping around to the water tank. They waved away the fading steam, the hand hovering over the elements – it was warm still, but workable.

Gale blinked; he still spoke in third person, a social tic or something ingrained into his person?

He asked a question.

”Aye, it does. Least as long as it has Kerosene and coolant.” They peered carefully through the cap top, squinting, before following the tank down to the bottom. Nothing seemed amiss on the surface, yet as the steam settled and the machinery began to cool did Gale spy the accumulation of condensation across the inner wheel arch and the faint dripping of water from one of the bolt nuts.

Gale cleared their throat.

”It… well I think it’s a first of a kind,” the Smith twiddled the wrench awkwardly in their hands, ”Least, I hope it’s one of a kind. If it wasn’t…” They grew quiet then, tensing as the considered their thoughts, ”That’d mean I did waste the last year and a bit designin' and makin' it.”

There was a swallow.

”It may become new in the city, in time. This is the first. I called it a Steel Horse – because made of steel – but I’m not sure…”

Followed by a half-hearted shrug. He was probably just being polite, he could not actually seriously be interested in what they were doing or what they had achieved in making.

Right?

”The smell does need work. And the noise. May have to think about a muffler or…”

The wagon was an interesting idea, or at least in principle. It caused the smith to straighten, step away from the rear of the bicycle. They made a square with their thumbs and forefingers, overlaying it over the rear wheel and squinting.

”A Wagon you say?” their jaw tightened, the small turn of internal cogs quietly groaning into life. They considered it, squeezing the thought carefully into consideration. ”Well.. a small wagon could work. Obviously, there would be a maximum pull limit to the Steel Horse, and that would require vigorous testin'. And I don’t think it could ever pull those… what is it they’re called? Kilt? Ne, Kint- But it could do something smaller for a solo individual with the correct arms- though a pivot may need to be put in the back to allow turns…”

[Maro Seran]

A steel horse? Maro's brows rose in confusion as belooked the thing over again. It certainly didn't look like a horse, unless one of the tribes had been keeping a secret and had a herd of deformed horses that vaguely looked like this 'bike'.

The Sanders person had jumped into another bout of words, and comparing to the words prior, it had been much easier to swallow though some words still escaped bis grasp.

"Shame it could not pull a kint"

And considering it needed someone on it like a regular bicycle, he couldn't imagine hitching it like it was an actual horse without needing others riding them.

Maro turned to look at the smith with a look of aw though, the fact they made such a thing was beyond impressive to Maro.


"But still, to create this must make you a very smart individual. Maro doubts anyone he knows could ever replicate…."

He waved his arms toward the contraption.

"that! Granted many of Maro's associates arent learned in such ways either but still!"


He emphasised, with a raised finger.

"It is impressive all the same, how fast does this thing go anyway? Maro imagines it at least has to be faster than a normal bicycle"

Maro asked, looking at Mister Sanders with a tilted head, and just noting that the human was taller than them… which wasn't unusual but sometimes Maro can't help but notice these things. It was like randomly noticing that his Daobrunno hairline was slowly receding, unimportant but one can't help notice anyway.

[Gale]

Outside Vienda | 14th Hour, Morning

12 Roalis 2720

Gale was still chewing the thought over; a small trailer cart may be better - or even one of the city rikshaws, they were made smaller than the full cargo wagons and were designed to be pulled by a person. It was not much of a leap to replace the person with the Steel Horse. They shook their hands out, eyes squinting as they contemplated where they could attach the bars and pivots; beneath the front seat and along the main frame, most certainly fixed in place through clamps as opposed to welded. It would have to be wide enough to stop it interfering with the connecting rods, or the connecting rods themselves would have to change for something thinner and more suited. The other side niggle snaked into Gale's thoughts then; the steel rods rarely had the back push power needed to do a full rotation and spluttered. The word was momentum, least Gale thought it was if they had done any form of research correctly. They needed something that was elastic. Pushing another collection of ideas aside, they scratched at their tangled mess of hair and nervously fiddled at the goggle straps.

Maro, by some strange miracle, was still here and showing interest - though they were unsure if this was because everything was stuttering behind translating the thoughts. Gale gave a small lean away from him, brow wrinkling as they tried to gain a reading on him. What was his intent? Was that his shoulders dropping? His staring unmoving from the steel horse- no, he was looking at the smith - he called it impressive. He called them smart.

Gale's cheeks flushed, their muscles growing stiff for a moment. They gave a wince, the surface of their skin tingling as it swept up their back and across their face. They shoved their hands in their pockets; they pushed back to the safety of tinkering with the Steel Horse, swallowing as the mind struggled with the acknowledgement sinking in.

Impressive?

"Well, I... well..." They crouched beside the Bicycle, took their gloves and pulled them on. They gingerly tapped around the bolt nuts at the base of the water tank and tubes; with the leather protecting their digits they could touch it with the residual heat. One of the bolts gave a light squeak as they turned it; a held back dribble of water drained out.

Damn, didn't do it tight enough.

"I mean, ent not that impressive." Gale glowered at the offending bolt, inhaling the steam and lingering kerosene fumes, "I'm just a natt. What do I know? Galdor could do things better-"

Gale bit their tongue; the teeth scraped over the top and pressed down upon the muscle to serve as a reminder. As long as thing were the way they are it did not matter what Gale did; they would always be a human, they would never achieve much, and society would belittle their efforts. They could drag themselves bloody to every line their rulers drew in the sand, and it would never be enough. No doubt they would even steal their hopes and dreams if given half a chance.

No, the Galdori already had, they just kept the population hungry enough to be unable to do anything about it.

The smith released a tense breath from within their lungs, felt the creak of bones within their chest and the acidic bile gather within their heart. Bitter was the word they were looking for. They were tired and bitter and they knew it.

Gale wiped a finger around the bolt that held one of the coolant tubes in place before tightening it by hand and then by the wrench.

"Aye. It can go fast. I dunnae how fast." They swallowed whatever last residue of pride they had and affixed their focus on their work and answering his questions. "Ne way to measure speed ye see? I can get to a good bicycle speed easy while on it."

With the first bolt tightened, they wiped the condensation off with a rag and proceeded to check the others.

"I also dunnae have a watch to time. I'll have tae get one at some point. Why ye ask? You want to race it?"

With a grunt, they pushed the wrench around on a tougher bolt. They always enjoyed working with their hands, it kept their focus grounded when it was at risk of wandering and Maro seemed to at least be a patient enough audience. Or perhaps it was merely stunned with fascination, Gale could not decide.

Gale waved their hand towards their tool pack.

"Mister Seran, could you be a good Kov and get me the flask without the triangle painted on it?" Gale patted the side of the coolant tank with a hand, "It's now cool enough that I can check it for leaks. Then, maybe it can be ridden again."

[Maro Seran]

Bah, Galdori could do it better his arse! Maro had yet seen one who could be a better hunter than the Seran! Granted he hadn’t met many Galdori and he wasn’t sure they were hunters in the first place, but at the same time he doubted many Galdor could build something like this! Otherwise they would have done so long ago and lorded it over every Wick and Human in Anaxas.

The fact they hadn’t meant to Maro means they have yet to do ‘one better’ over this human. Of course this also stemmed from the fact Maro believed the Galdor to be arrogant blowhards at the best of times, and it wasn’t like he had proper ‘schooling’ so his internal vote of confidence for Mr. Sander’s abilities was perhaps far too biased.



"Hmmm… that would be a thing to do wouldn’t?"

Unfortunately Maro had little experience driving, including bikes, and he had an inkling that this a tad more expensive than a regular bike, which would be a disservice to good Mr. Sander’s should he crash and be unable to repay their generosity and patience.

He saw them fidgeting with the bike, looking it over and apparently Sanders found some things not to his liking. Maro craned his neck, looking to see them fidget with a wrench to tighten some metal bit, a bolt if he recalled? He’d seen some on their wagons after all, and some of the family had the basic knowledge to give maintenance to them. Would have been quite bad if their kints broke down with no way to fix them after all.

He hummed at the thought that it could easily reach bike speeds, only making him more curious on how fast such a thing could go, shame they had nothing on them to guesstimate the speed. He watched the bike and Sanders both with a fascination, he was always by new people of course, but this was more than the norm.

Hearing their request, he approached the tool pack, seeing a bunch of tools that looked familiar, some the same but different sizes, some just plain unknown to him and search and then saw the flask in question. He wondered what was in it, probably just water if they were checking for leakage he supposed, it made sense not to use anything else that could be harder to replace.

He approached the so called blacksmith, handing him the flask with a bit of a smile on his face. If it seemed alright then he’d likely see it in action! Smell or no it would be worth hearing it in action then see it on the move!

"Is this the one"

[Gale]

Outside Vienda | 14th Hour, Morning

12 Roalis 2720

While Maro went rummaging through the tool bag, Gale was busy tinkering. They finger tightened a few more bolts and clasps, a gloved finger wiping away the moisture that accumulated along the joins and carefully inspecting it. There was no obvious damage that they could currently see, though if something was internal that would be another matter entirely. They added 'Disassemble water jacket for inspection' to their list of mental notes.

They leaned their ear close as they tapped the pipes with a finger, listening to the hollow sound that vibrated out. It was near dry tank, but was that due to use or a pipe that was too loose and slowly leaked the water over the road? They leaned away, eyes squinting along the river path for a sign or a milestone and failed to spot one.

That is troublesome. I need to work out how far and how fast.

Gale sighed and shook away the nagging thoughts.

'Get a timepiece' was added.

"Well, I have ne means to race it today. But, if it behaves itself I can put ye on the back and show ye."

Gale had spoken before actually thinking, part of them cringing at the thought. It was not an impossible thought, the top of the coolant tank had a flat frame over the top and he could put his feet on the frame at the base of the seat to keep them out the path of the connecting drive rod. Of course, then it would be a matter of balance - but that should not be too much of a difference from two people sharing a mundane bicycle.

Right?

There was the additional that it would inform Gale on how much this machine could carry, to be able to hold two adults would in of itself open up a lot of opportunities and gave more questions. Could it pull a cart? Could it carry cargo? What if the same engine principle was put onto a cart?

Regardless of their thoughts, they passed the suggestion off for the moment to allow him to chew it over.

It was Maro's voice that dragged Gale back. They blinked dumbly at his smile, looked down at the flask and saw the triangle was absent from its surface.

"Thank ye." They took it, noted the worn hands and calluses that marked the tips of his digits - a true bow man - and the dirt beneath his nails, before firmly affixing their attention back on the Steel Horse.

Standing, Gale peered down into the top of the coolant tank eyes squinting at the dark interior. The water flask was unstopped, gently swirled and then carefully poured through the top. It splashed against the inside, a low gurgle of noise filling it as it splashed against metal. There was no hiss, a good sign that the metal had cooled enough and a faint gurgle shortly followed as it began to drain down through the pipes and into the jacket. With the flask half emptied Gale returned the stopper, their eyes squinting as they traced a finger around the system, ears pricking to the gentle glug of water settling.

"There." There was another loose pipe, this time on the pipe leaving the engine jacket. A steady rivulet of water dribbled from a join, dripping onto the floor and quickly forming a small puddle at the base.

Gale put a wrench to it, turned, and then found the offending join refusing to grip. They tried again, leaning down so their shoulder was on the ground with one hand on the wrench with the left on the pipe this time. The join continued to spin as they attempted to leaver it closed again, the rivulet growing thicker-

"Oh. Shit."

-That in turn made the water drain faster.

"Maro. The tools- get- I need the pliers. They have a square head kind of like a lizard and wood handles." as they twisted it again the water began to spray a little harder. They grimaced when it spat against their face and clamped a hand over the offending join to stop it from going everywhere, "Any time today- Just get them here and open them and-."

Their mind had lurched neatly into work, narrowly skipping panic and instead focusing on haste.

If this was at the Forge, Gale would have lifted the steel horse and put it into a vice and gradually tighten it while the water drained into a bucket below. But Gale was not, so they instead worked with the tools available. Sadly for Maro, this meant he was also a tool in this situation.

"So you gently unscrew them, put the head around this pipe here," Gale tapped it, "And then ye tighten the head so it sits snug-like. And then I need ye to keep holding onto it real tight for me because I need to tighten this side. Ye chen?"