((No pictures because, well, I still don't have a scanner, and am unlikely to until intersession comes (from May 15th and on) because the only one in this house who knows how the gorram scanner works is my graduate-student fiance Joe who is, needless to say, drowning in projects and work. Not that I'm not either, but, y'know, scale difference.
I don't wanna become a grad student anymore.
Anyway, just thought I'd start teasing you with ideas and story-bits that came to me today in my half-awake funk.))
When the air shimmered, shivered, then finally tore with a sound like ripping cloth, the few dragons and handful of humanoids who were still in the courtyard bolted. The guards, both on-duty and off, made their way to perches above the shimmering door and crouched, poised for war.
Moments later, Revent backwinged gracefully to land a ways in front of the portal, and stared through it to the other side. His wings remained poised to lift him into the sky once more, but his head was cocked towards the portal, and he slowly relaxed his pose as the moments went by, a draconic smirk forming on his face.
The first... creature.. through the portal was perhaps eight feet tall at the shoulder -- relatively minuscule next to Revent, but clearly a beast of war. The thing was a slender biped, with delicate (but deadly looking) front legs that it carried drawn close to its chest as it walked. Its hind-legs were heavier-looking, covered in thick plates, and the paws had distinctive killing claws carefully drawn up away from the ground. At each step, its long tail swept from side to side, the sunlight sparkling off of the thin metallic spikes that decorated the end of it. Its neck was slender and plated like its hind-legs, and its head was a frightening thing - a long, narrow muzzle filled with curved, razor-sharp teeth (that it carefully allowed the gathered guards to see, by the simple expedient of letting its jaws gape open in a humorless grin), protected by slender metallic spikes that seemed to mock the Myrsilkain crest. Its dark, pupilless eyes were unreadable, though they seemed to hold a bestial, deadly intelligence, and no one in or around the courtyard could shake the feeling that it was watching, judging, and finding them all wanting.
Delicate metallic wings were folded carefully against its side, the wingarms held in an awkward-seeming position to cant the entire structure away from the legs of its two passengers. These two - human enough to have caused no stir if they had arrived without the beast of war - were perched where neck and body met, though the Rider (distinctive in his dark blue and silver uniform) obviously had a much more comfortable seat. Behind the two, strapped to the beast's slender back, were four small bags, two on either side.
Eight more followed, as different from the first as they were from each other. Some where clearly bipedal, others quadrupedal, and still others (a small minority) caught in that uncomfortable half-way point, where they could move in either position, but neither seemed truly natural. Their heads ranged from blunt, heavily plated things to thin, narrow shapes that almost resembled a very elongated dolphin-snout. Some jangled faintly as they moved, their wings made of thin, razor-sharp fingers of metal, while others creaked under the weight of heavy plate-wings. Each carried two passengers - one wearing the same dark blue and silver uniform as the lead Rider, the other dressed in a simple dark blue outfit - along with baggage of one sort or another. The lighter, bipedal beasts carried only four light bags, while the heavier quadrupeds obviously carried the rest of this small group's equipment, as they were laden down almost like beasts of burden.
And with them came the distinctive smell of hot metal, oil, and steam.
The Rider of the lead beast halted a few feet front Revent and brought his left hand to his chest, "Lieutenant Dar'Anarin of the 1st Irregular Dragoons, at your service, sir. With me are the eight members of my squad, our helpers, and our MasterCrafter, Crafter Sel'Arn."
Revent eyed the nine beasts currently arrayed before him, all in some form of 'at ease'. "I welcome you, Lieutenant Dar'Anarin, and your people to Clan Akelara. It was kind of your people to send us assistance."
Dar'Anarin gave a lopsided grin, "Excuse my presumption sir, but I hear a 'but' in that statement."
"Ah, I was merely... considering the reaction of the majority of your people."
"We're Irregulars, sir." Dar'Anarin swept a hand back to encompass the mismatched group of beasts behind him. "We're hardly the majority of our people. Following a beastie - forgive the potential offense, sir - isn't something we'll blink twice at."
Revent nodded, then turned and gestured for the group to follow him into the Clan proper. "Very well then, let me brief you on what your general tasks here will be."
---
Sel'Arn eyed the small collection of people in front of him, trying to accept the vast range of forms that beings in the multiverse apparently took. He'd grown up with great mechanical beasts of war, his father had been a famed Irregular after all (and had retired with his beast still intact and functioning, though a creaky two models out of date). He'd gone early to the Crafter Hall, to learn to design and build the beasts, while his brother had been given a commission in the Dragoons and become an Irregular like their father.
But that hadn't prepared him for stepping through that portal, astride his brother's Unit, and coming face to face with one of the largest... creatures he'd ever seen. 'Beastie' was right...
He now understood why only the Irregulars had been considered.
Sel'Arn cleared his throat nervously, the immediately winced under the regard of so many different types of eyes. Relax. Just consider them another batch of potential Dragoons, newly commissioned and looking to build their Units.
The thought wasn't as reassuring as it should be. Especially when one of the less-human grinned at him, showing enough teeth to make a Power Warrior Unit jealous.
"Ah... I am MasterCrafter Sel'Arn. I am unaware of what duties a MasterCrafter here would be expected to perform, but on Jaishra we are expected to create, modify, and perfect the Mechanical Units that our Dragoons ride to battle on. The current model in production is called Emzeearr by the Dragoons - which is really just a slurred pronunciation of the model designation M-ZR."
You're rambling, Sel, get on with it, he mentally berated himself. You've done this ten times since achieving Master. A few odd people shouldn't bother you!
Never mind that you're going against every law in the books while doing this..., a small voice piped up. If anyone in the Craft Hall or government ever finds out, you're going to be in deep, deep trouble.
He licked his lips and continued, "As I am rather... superfluous at the moment, Revent'akel has given me his permission to practice my craft, which means creating Unit parts. As I am a Master, the other part of my craft is assisting others in building custom Units, which he has also given me permission to do. I know you are from other worlds, other places. I ask that you spread the word to those who may be interested building a Unit of their own -- please be aware, however, that I will only accept those who are willing to get their hands dirty and build the Unit themselves. I will, of course, help, but I will not do it for them."
"Be aware - Units are not capable of flight. Their wings exist as either shields or extra weapons. And while Units are not capable of distinct... telepathic.. communication like I have been told proper dragons are, Dar'Anarin swears that they are intelligent." Sel'Arn shifted nervously. What he was about to say would get him laughed out of any Craft Hall. "Though it goes against everything we Crafters are taught, I believe that, if the Rider cares enough about the Unit he or she is building, it gains both personality and intelligence from that care. As I do not have a Unit of my own -- am actually forbidden one, by the laws of my people -- I cannot verify that to my own satisfaction, but that hypothesis fits the data I have been able to gather."
"That is all I wished to say. Please, spread the word, but only to those you believe would be truly interested. As I am only one man, it will take me time and effort to craft the pieces necessary."
--------The Info--------
Sel'Arn, nervous Crafter though he might be, is sending out a tentative call through the Nexus -- those who would care to craft Units (Steampunk-esque dragon-like machines of war) for themselves may present themselves to him, at which point he will guild them through the process of building one.
At the moment, I have very little idea how I'll handle this. At the very least, you'll need to have a candidate of some sort, preferably one capable of dealing with the concept of getting dirty for the sake of their creation -- they are, after all, giant beasts of metal, oil, and steam, with a dash of good ol' fashioned Steampunk-wtf-factor to account for developing distinctive personalities and strange abilities.
As there is nothing biological about them, they cannot be bred. To be honest, on Jaishra, Units are treated like we treat tanks or artillery pieces (with the exception of the Irregulars, who are absolutely, 100% convinced their mutt-like, custom built Units not only have personality, but are capable of communicating with them. But then, there's a reason Irregulars are considered crazy and are limited to at most two extant divisions, which are kept carefully apart from both the regular standing army and each other at all times.)
If anyone is interested in this, I might just forgo the scanner and just draw the blasted things from scratch on my machine. Might not turn out as "clean", but I have been meaning to do more purely digital art.
M-ZR: Mechanical units - model ZR
Moderators: Mystic Dragon, Xalia, Shard