[Mechanical Marvels] Upgrade (Ali)

[Pua]

2nd Day of Spring, 510 AV

Pua leaned casually against alley wall, clutching his cloak about him to protect from the chill early spring wind that occasionally gusted across the city. Spring had finally arrived in Mizahar, but the warmth was coming back far too slowly for Pua’s taste, and he was still prone to bouts of shivering if a breeze caught him unaware. He kept his cloak clutched protectively about him to ward off the cold, which had earned him quit a few sharp looks from the guards patrolling the streets. That, Pua could deal with, but the prickling sensation was back between his shoulder blades, he was being watched again. It couldn’t be helped he supposed, though under his cloak his free hand drifted to the butt of one of his hand crossbows out of reflex. As long as his stalker was content merely to observe, Pua would leave them alone. The passersby going about their midmorning errands or heading to work along the busy street the alley opened into paid little attention to the man lounging in the Alley mouth. Pua hadn’t been prepared for how busy Syliras was. Growing up in Taloba, he thought he knew what a bustling city was like, but the sheer volume of people, all hurrying helter skelter around the broad main streets was a little disquieting for Pua.

Putting his contemplations on the city aside, Pua focused once more on why he had come so far Northeast from the Jungles of Falyndar. He had been struggling for a couple years to come up with a way to quickly reload his crossbows during close combat, unfortunately, the mechanics of the device made quick, fluid reloads impossible without sufficient space and time to work unhampered. Unfortunately space and time tended to be in short supply in most of the fights Pua found himself in. He had just about resigned himself to hauling around more crossbows when one of Rahi of the Tiger Eyed’s spies had returned from a long mission with a most intriguing device, a clock. The Spy had bought the clock off a trade caravan out of curiosity. The merchant claimed there was a man in one of the northern cities that made these, and other automate contraptions. A fellow scout of Pua’s had been present at the roost to hear this and, knowing of Pua’s dilemma, had informed him. Pua didn’t know if the man could help, but he procured permission from Heda of the Creeping Vines to take the trip, so long as he provided a detailed report upon his return. Setting out immediately had been a bad idea, as Pua was unprepared for how cold it was during the winter outside of Falyndar. He had finally reached Syliras as spring broke and was eager to get his small quest finished and back to the steaming jungle where he was far more comfortable.

Pua pushed himself off the wall and merged into the traffic stream, heading for Stormhold Castle. The directions he had gotten from a wary guard said the man he was looking for ran a little shop in the third tier. He had to ask for directions twice more before he finally found himself stepping down a castle corridor towards a small wooden sign in the very back. The first thing that Pua noticed as he stepped into the shop was how much warmer it was within. The proprietor must have some sort of fire going, though he could not see one in this room. Glancing about, he noticed that he was the only living being within the room. With a shrug to himself, he turned instead to peruse the various showpieces scattered about. Along a wall were some clocks that resembled the on the spy had brought back, at least he was in the right place. Clocks didn’t really interest him though, and he turned his attention elsewhere. He noticed a barrel sitting on the floor and it appeared to be filled with canes. Now what would an inventor be displaying canes for, Pua wondered. His curiosity piqued, Pua lifted a cane from the barrel. It seemed to be a normal walking cane, though it did have an odd silver nub sticking out below the handle. Pua was mildly startled when fiddling with the nub produced a blade from the cane’s base. Examining the contraption closer brought a satisfied smile to Pua’s face. This man could definitely help him with his problem.

“Hello,” he called, “Is anyone here?”

[Alistair deGrey]

Apples or pears? Such was deGrey’s only dilemma that devastatingly boring afternoon. However, it was not a very large dilemma because he was not very fond of apples. Still Alistair lay on the bed with his head cocked, staring at the small basket of fruit on his desk. Business had not exactly picked up this spring; people were outside enjoying the first days of lovely spring weather. So while deGrey was stuck inside attending to his shop, his would be customers frolicked about. Such a lovely time of the year, sarcasm was smeared on the hypothetical voice. He rolled over and into the floor, getting up and walking to his fireplace. Perhaps I will philter something today; it would be interesting to begin regularly selling philters as well. His flint and steel brought tossed small sparks onto the dry tinder and ash in the fireplace, where they toyed with the idea of ignition. A few more strikes and a small flame sprouted from its bed of tinder. As deGrey blew softly on it for encouragement, he heard a voice.

The fireplace forgotten, Alistair moved himself through his workshop and into his display room. There he found a man holding one of his sword canes, which was extended. The man looked as if he had been covered in soot, he was probably the darkest man deGrey had ever seen. He blinked for a few seconds, registering exactly what he was seeing. He must be from the far south, I have never seen someone with a façade like this. It was not just his strange appearance, but the way he carried himself. ”Pull the lever near the base right and back, that will relock it.” Alistair was not entirely sure what to think of this man yet, but then again he had never been too exceptional at judging people by first impressions. Eventually he had given up. ”Oh, one second if you will my good sir.” Alistair padded back to his office. There he slipped his boots onto his bare feet, smoothed his hair down and grabbed a sheet of paper and fountain pen. Enough people already believe there is mysticism in my craft, it should not be out of the question to put on a semblance of normality for a customer. deGrey returned with the paper and pen, setting it down on the white marble counter. His image was mirrored in the polished stone as he began to scrawl the date and a quick heading on the paper. After he had readied himself, deGrey looked up at the foreign man. ”Now good sir, what was it you wanted?”

[Pua]

Pua preformed the sequence that the unkempt man had suggested as he disappeared through a back doorway. The blade slid smoothly back into the cane. Remarkable. Pua replaced the cane contraption back into the barrel with its fellows, and once more the man reappeared, this time looking a bit more groomed. He sauntered over to join the shop’s owner at the counter, letting his cloak fall open in the shops warmer atmosphere. “Well you see sir,” Pua began, smiling affably, “I have a small problem with my weaponry. I love these,” He tapped the butt of the hand crossbow resting in its belt pouch holster, “But they are most unfeasible to reload in a fight. I can only haul around so many at once, and as I lack any defensive melee skills, once I have fired my only option is to run away so that I may reload. You understand how this is not the most honorable or courageous action, no?” Pua thumbed his earring, a nerves habit he had developed while talking to those he was unsure of.

“You, it seems, have a gift for making some truly remarkable contraptions.” Pua waved an arm, indicating the various show pieces within the sales room. “I am in need of a crossbow that can be reloaded swiftly amidst the heat of battle, but is still light enough for scouting the jungles.” From a compartment located on the outside of the specially designed belt pouch, Pua withdrew a purse. It clinked heavily as he dropped it on the counter next to the other man’s piece of paper. “I am, of course, willing to pay handsomely for your efforts in ensuring my continued well being. But first,” Pua placed his hand over the purse, “I am afraid I must know if you are indeed able to fulfill my request. This is a most reasonable requirement, I believe.” Pua gave the man his best grin.

[Alistair deGrey]

A slightly crooked smile crept across deGrey’s face; tentatively at first, but soon to be a fully fledged “smile” by most people’s standards. He played his hand across the white marble counter, drumming out a small beat. ”But of course my good sir…” Alistair’s smile fled as he began to mentally check the details, his eyes moving about in the way a sleeping mans did. ”Yes, it really should be no trouble at all.” As soon as he was about to leave, Alistair deGrey remembered the new business practices he had thought of. Truthfully most businessmen would have established these immediately, but Alistair was far from one of those types. The pen found deGrey’s hand and he looked at the foreign man before him, Err, before we settle on a price I have a few things to run through. New procedures and… Yes, alright then.” His right hand made a “01” on the paper before him, and next to it a description of the requested device. Next to it he wrote the date, and then wrote “3rd Day of Spring, 510 AV” next to that date.

”Very well then good sir. Yes, this request is well within my abilities.” In fact, sometimes deGrey wished somebody would come along and challenge him with something out of this world. He had often considered doing it himself, but there is no point in creating something for nobody. Regardless of this project’s difficulty, Alistair continued, ”In fact, I will have the modification completed for you tomorrow.” Alistair swept a bit of hair out of his eyes so he could see. Perhaps I should cut it all off like this fellow, that seems practical. ”In regards to the price, it will indubitably be insignificant by the sound of the coin in your pocket.” This man’s culture suddenly struck deGrey, he had a notion. ”It seems to me as if a reasonable price would be approximately one hundred and seventy five gold, or about fifty nine Bikka?” Alistair leaned back against the wall, wedging his feet against the space where the counter and floor formed a right angle. ”If you would like the crossbow to be relatively compact and light, I would say a maximum of five bolts for the clip. It would of course automatically load when you cranked the windlass.” Alistair jumped back up from his leaning position as he remembered an extremely important detail, ”Oh yes! What is your name?”

[Pua]

Pua boomed a delighted laugh. Not only was his envisioned device within this strangely flighty man’s capabilities, but it would also be far less than he had been prepared to spend. Pua had no idea what a windlass was, but was confident that the man would show him once the design was completed. Five bolts should be more than enough and the automatic reload was just a dream come true. Still chuckling contentedly to himself, Pua withdrew a separate, empty, purse from the same pouch pocket. Knowing he was coming to this predominately human city, Pua had exchanged some of his Bikkas for Mizas. From his full purse he plucked seventy five Gold Mizas and placed them within the empty purse. Leaving the purse containing the seventy five on the countertop, he returned the original to the pocket of his belt pouch. “I shall give you seventy five now,” He told the man, gesturing to the remaining purse, “And the other one hundred upon completion and demonstration of the device. I trust you are ok with this course of action? Ah yes, my name would be Pua though I severely doubt you will find yourself with enough customers similar to myself to cause confusion.

His business presumably concluded, Pua turned and headed out the door in search of to place to spend the night as he awaited the tinkerers work. As he left the castle corridor, the prickly sensation returned, his shadow had presumably been waiting for his exit. Not to particularly worried about his stalker, if he hadn’t pursued to make a move yet chances are he was just there to observe and report. Pua walked into the first inn he saw, not even bothering to glance at the sign. This close to the castle, it was reasonably well kept, not that that really mattered to the jungle dwelling Pua. He spoke briefly with the portly innkeeper cleaning a glass behind the bar. The man, clearly worried by Pua’s roots and all the tales he had heard about them, was reluctant to rent Pua a room for the night, However after three Gold Mizas and a vow not to eat anyone the innkeeper handed Pua a key. Pua went directly to the indicated room, where he lay upon the bed and patiently waited for night to come and go.

[Alistair deGrey]

Let us see… Alistair jiggled the handle on his door a few times, having limited success opening his door. A quick shove to its old wooden frame jarred the door open, creaking as it came to a halt. The other door, the one to the courtyard, had been open far too much. Moisture and water had crept into the shop and soaked any unprotected wood. Thankfully, most of the timber left over from last season was stored inside his living quarters, which had a swollen door. Alistair moved into the cold interior of his shop, he had left the courtyard door open again. In his hands was a compact, dark wood crossbow he had just purchased from Kalvin Wilde. It was an excellent piece of craftsmanship, but that could be appreciated at a later time. Right now, deGrey shut the courtyard’s door and set the crossbow on the table. Before he began work, Alistair considered starting a fire. Quickly deciding against that, he set to work.

Most of the parts he needed were already made. Alistair kept a few windlasses on hand so he would not have to assemble them for every project. They were extremely simple devices, composed of nothing more than four pulleys and a crank. Three of the pulleys were aligned in a row, while the fourth one was mounted above the middle pulley on the first row. Looped around each pulley was a cord, which wound around the back pulley with the crank. Said cord traveled along the stock to a hook which was attached to the crossbow’s string. The hook itself was designed with a secondary hook which would attach to the crossbow’s nub that customarily caught on the string. When the user fired it, the nub would depress into the crossbow and release the string and hook system.

The box took quite a bit more effort. Whereas Alistair only had to attach the windlass, the box had to be nailed and measured. It would only take a single wooden board to create the box. Alistair began perusing the numerous tools his predecessor had left behind. Each was in its own place, an esoteric system only deGrey would think of. Alistair grabbed one of his wood saws, not the best saw he had available, but deGrey was neurotic about ruining good tools. It was much more preferable to use worn tools until their performance significantly suffered. The saw had small blotches of rust on it from its long dormancy between residents, but was still sharp. Alistair huffed a bit, his breath materializing in puffs as he cut the wood into four equal pieces. The two small sections were just wide enough to fit a bolt, while the other pair was tall enough to accommodate a set of five bolts. The box that would be created was tall and thin, fit to the dimensions of five crossbow bolts. However before Alistair assembled it, he began to carve grooves into the bottom thin piece, and in either side of the tall sides. It took an indiscriminant amount of whittling before deGrey was left with a wooden shaft that would slide between the two walls. A handful of nails found themselves being hammered into one of the larger boards, protruding out the other side. Longer carpentry nails were used on the side, while the top was outfitted with shorter versions. One of the small boards deGrey had sawed out earlier fit snugly onto the small top nails. Now Alistair took the larger side’s twin and hammered it onto the long carpentry nails until it met snugly with the top side of the box. The nails running down the side would serve as walls for the two missing sides. On the near side of the box there were several nails missing on the top and bottom. The top to allow the user to slip bolts into the magazine, and the bottom to allow the wooden bottom to slide back and forth. Now deGrey nailed a hook into the sliding board, then he connected it the same hook that was on the crossbow’s string.

The machine was essentially complete. Alistair looked over the piece, gauging it with his eyes. His brain ran through the process, imagining the smooth process. Pua cranks the windlass, pulling back the string. As he pulls back the string, the box would move back as well. After the grooved board is pushed far enough back, a crossbow bolt falls into place. The distance between the stock and the opening was just enough to prevent another bolt from falling through. The windlass hook catches on the nub, the lever is pulled, and the bolt is fired. Alistair gazed intently at the machine before him. His eyes closed for a second and he rested his head in his arms. Yes, the device would suit Pua’s needs excellently. It was small and compact like the original crossbow, and it did not have many complex parts so it would be easy to repair. The inventor sat up from his wood table, swiping away some shavings, and began to start a fire. There were a few more things he would like to do, but at least if Pua came for the mechanism it would be ready

[Alistair deGrey]

The fire warmed to its task, hungrily smothering the wood. The idea was to expend the wood that had been outside, exposed to the elements, before the rest. The mildly damp wood still ignited, but found itself also belching out great gouts of smoke. It really was a poor fire, not entirely warm at this time, and extremely willing to choke Alistair with its emissions. The chimney readily swallowed up most of the smoke, obscuring a majority of the fireplace’s innards. Alistair left the flames to their work, and resumed his.

I doubt test firing my standard measuring bolt with the repeater would yield anything but damage to my bolt. I suppose I shall exclude a test firing. Alistair pondered his next step as the living quarters fell away to the workshop. Before him on the table was the repeating crossbow he had developed for Pua, the exotic Myrian that had requested his services. deGrey hefted the device, which was actually quite light for its modifications, and expert hands began exploring the various pieces of the crossbow. He was examining each piece to ensure that all was in order. Trigger… It click smoothly, the nub at the top vanishing as he compressed the lever. Stock… Wilde’s handiwork showed here, the stock was smooth and polished to the touch, free of cracks and blemishes. It would take more than rain to warp this crossbow. Bow and String… The cord was drawn taught between the composite material of the bow, waxed to a caliber unseen anywhere else in Syliras, even Sylira for that matter. Windlass and Magazine… Alistair cranked back the windlass, hearing a click as the crank . Before anything else happened, deGrey lay the crossbow on the table and bent to examine it. His eyes scanned the magazine mechanism closely, and then he saw it.

There was a problem with the sliding piece. Damnation how could I not have seen that? The revised process ran through Alistair’s head. Pua cranks the windlass, the string nocks. A bolt falls into place, the dimensions of the space preventing another from falling through. However, there is a bolt resting above that. After Pua releases the first bolt, the hatch slams into the waiting bolt and jams, or even breaks, the weapon. Since the bow string is connected to the hatch door that just got jammed, the string stops short, superlatively short. The string then does not contribute its full momentum, and the bolt fails to receive all of the energy.

This would not do at all. Alistair twisted the hook driven into the hatch door to detach it from the crossbow string. He pulled it backwards, out and away from the magazine. Hmm, in all actuality, this is not too difficult to remedy. The new concept was to carve the wedge into an acute triangle, so as to act like a wedge. The bolts would still fall as they would otherwise, but when he fired it the wedge would push the other bolt back up. Alistair pulled the familiar wood saw from his cache of tools. A vial of nearby ink released its acrid smell as the inventor uncorked it and dipped his finger in. Running the dripping black finger along the back of the saw yielded a makeshift straight edge he could use to measure his triangle. Let us aim for approximately 10 degrees. Alistair pulled one of an incalculable amount of angle measures from a nearby cabinet and marked the said angle on the wood. He then took the saw and stuck the inky side on the wood at the 10 degree mark. The result was a dark streak running along the wood, creating a 10-80-90 triangle on the hatch door. Alistair wiped the remaining ink on his tunic and began to saw along the indicated angle. The resulting triangle would suit its task excellently.

The sides or width of the hatch door was not modified at all, so Alistair simply slid the inclined plane back into place and reconnected the hook. I had best not risk a breakdown now, this could ruin the entire crossbow if it does not work. deGrey hacked off a small piece of wood and quickly whittled it down to the approximate size of a crossbow bolt. It was crude, but it would do for a test bolt. Especially if it is destined to shatter. Alistair loaded the measuring bolt and then the stick. The makeshift bolt was a bit small, but hopefully the string would catch it. The crank system smoothly pulled back the string, hearing a quiet click as the string caught. deGrey swung his gaze about, looking for a suitable target. Finding none, he resigned himself with a sigh to shooting the soft earth in the courtyard. A breath, a slight push on the lever, and the resounding twang as the crossbow thrust the bolt away from it and into the clay earth. No undue sounds, I would qualify that as a success indicator. Alistair strode over to collect his bolt, shaking the dark earth that clung to it. Back in the workshop he laid the crossbow back on the table and examined the magazine again. Sure enough there was the bolt, lying against the triangle. In retrospect, this design was quite a bit more efficient even if the other had worked. For this way the mass that the crossbow’s force was propelling was cut by 2/3rds and the form was more aerodynamic. This was good, this was extremely good.

One last task to complete before Pua retrieved his crossbow. deGrey doubted the Myrian would have access to a machinist at regular intervals while in Falyndar, so he decided that a document to inform Pua would be in order. The proprietor dug moved back into his living quarters, where the fire had taken off and warmed the room nicely. The desk in the far right hand corner yielded a piece of parchment, and Alistair walked back out to his workshop, leaving the door open. He immediately sat down and began to sketch the crossbow, paying particular attention to the cranking mechanism and magazine. These would be the worrying components. In the harsh weather of Falyndar it would be necessary for Pua to pay particular attention to them. deGrey’s hand ran over the light sketch, darkening the lines. The magazine, the stock, the bow, it all began to materialize on paper. It was not a glorious sketch, but it would definitely serve its purpose. Now Alistair began a top down view of the crossbow, starting with the bow and scaling it to the other drawing’s size. The top view grew a stock, then a crank, and details began sprouting that would indicate the various areas. To each part Alistair assigned a label, “crank”, “magazine”, etc.. He thought it best to disregard the obvious terms such as “stock” and “bow”, because after all the man used these weapons on a daily basis. On the side, deGrey wrote a few notes regarding the windlass, noting that he must always ensure it is lubricated or else the performance of the crossbow will suffer. deGrey finished the caretaking notes, informing Pua that letting water collect in the magazine would warp it, to prevent anything from collecting in the grooves of the hatch door, and other various techniques for ensuring the weapon would not break or suffer hampered performance.
Now deGrey was satisfied that he had worked out any problems in the crossbow, he shuddered to think of selling a faulty piece of equipment. It did not sit well with the inventor.

[Pua]

Pua woke as the sun was just creeping over the walls of Syliras feeling quite rested and more jovial than he had since he left the comfort of the steaming jungles to the south. With an added bounce to his step he went about his usual morning routine. Going to the washstand set in the corner of his room, Pua splashed his face form the basin placed there. Even the icy chill of the water wasn’t enough to dampen Pua’s bright spirits. Taking his razor from the pack, Pua meticulously shaved first the stubble upon his chin, and then the stubble across his scalp. That most important tack complete, Pua began preparing to leave. He pulled on his shirt and boots, lacing up the latter snuggly. Each of his belts was buckled, and the large belt pouches tied securely around his thighs. Finally, he placed his beloved earring back in its proper place, dangling from his left ear, and swept his cloak on as he headed out the door and down the stairs. The innkeeper looked up with a mild flash of surprise from where he was preparing for the day behind the common room’s bar, no doubt surprised to see one of his patrons up as early as he. Pua paused on his way out to inform the portly man that he would not be returning and the inn could rent the room to someone else. The anxious innkeep sagged visibly in relief at this news, forcing Pua to fight an eyeroll. On his way out the door, Pua informed the innkeeper over his shoulder that he might not want to believe everything that he hears muttered around his tables. If the man responded, Pua was out the door before it reached his ears.

Once on the street, Pua felt the unseen eyes return. Idly he wondered if the same poor sap had been there all night or if his stalker was replaced. Pua didn’t look around for any faces he recognized, in the end it really didn’t matter to him. Pua was anxious to have get his hands upon his new weapon, and just as anxious to return home, but he figured that the inventor probably wasn’t finished this early in the morning, In fact, he might not even be awake yet for all Pua knew. While he was eager to get back to the shop, he didn’t want to annoy the man by peering over his shoulder all day. Besides, it would be frowned upon is he travelled all the way to this place and didn’t at least bring back a little information for the Scout’s Roost. So Pua headed out into the awakening city to explore for a bell or two.

It was almost three bells past midday when Pua finally returned to the corridor within Stormhold Castle’s third tier in which the little shop was located. Pua had not meant to stay way that long, but this big city, so different from Taloba, was fascinating, and truthfully, Pua had gotten lost a couple of times. When Pua pushed through the door the proprietor was busy scribbling something upon some papers. He coughed quietly to let the man become aware of his presence. “I hope I have not returned to early. Please take my swift return not as impatience, but as eagerness to see what wonder you have constructed.”

[Alistair deGrey]

One of the two clocks deGrey kept running at all times had fallen silent a minute or so before Pua entered the room. When the dark Myrian entered the room, deGrey unceremoniously dropped his pencil and padded around the counter. He had not bathed as of yet today, his hair was a mess, his tunic just recently put on, and his feet bare. His pale eyes ran over the Myrian, he visage was decidedly more jovial today. No doubt, it is far warmer than it has been for the past few days. Spring is breaking the ice of Winter. The single metronome continued as Alistair deGrey moved to the silent clock and began to wind its brass key. "Greetings Pua. Your crossbow is finished." The sound of a weight clicking lightly against the axle informed deGrey that the clock was fully wound. His eyes swept over the partner clock's hands, rearranging the recently silent clock's hands to match. This way the clocks would stay accurate over a longer period of time. deGrey released the key, and a familiar tick-tock filled the room, a duo that played a metronome.

"One second if you will." Alistair walked back behind the marble and glass counter, back into the heart of his demesnes. A few seconds later he returned with a darkwood crossbow outfitted with a magazine and cranking mechanism. Earlier in the day he had lightly sanded the magazine, freeing it of any splinters. However, it was still far from the polished sheen that nearly emanated from the crossbow. "Well, this is it." deGrey pointed to the thin magazine that rested on top of the darkwood crossbow, "This is your magazine. Simply slide five bolts into here," he pointed to the gap in the nails near the top of the magazine, "the rest will automatically be handled." deGrey's hand moved to the crank. "This is your windlass. In about two revolutions the string will nock, and at that point a bolt should slide into position." deGrey set the crossbow down on the counter and reached for the previously mentioned parchment. "This is just a document detailing the new parts of the crossbow, and what to observe often." The crossbow slid forward on the counter as deGrey calmly indicated the Myrian should claim the machine. "If I recall correctly, the agreed price was one hundred and seventy five Mizas." deGrey waited for payment, or refusal, a gray eyed statue.

[Pua]

Pua waited patiently as the shop’s owner went about the business of resetting his clock and fetched the Crossbow, and listened intently as the man pointed out and described the various modifications. As he finished, Pua gently lifted the crossbow from the counter top. Carefully he inspected the new equipment that the inventor had fashioned. Though he didn’t fully understand everything of how it all worked he observed how everything connected. He also examined the crossbow itself. The craftsmanship was marvelous, much better than any of the smaller ones that Pua normally used. The steep price was worth it just for such a fine weapon. His examination complete, Pua raised the stock to his shoulder, being careful not to point it at the proprietor, and looked down the crossbow to get a feel of how it would fire. Despite the added modifications, the weapon was not as heavy as Pua expected it to be. Pua was going to have to aim overtop and down along the length of the magazine, which would take some getting used to, but would be relatively easy to compensate for with a little practice.

Immensely satisfied, Pua let a large grin spread across his face as he replaced the crossbow atop the counter. “It is, without a doubt, a most perfect weapon.” He reached into an outer pocket of one of his belt pouches and pulled out a purse he had counted out earlier and deposited it with a clink next to the crossbow. “There you are my good man, the remainder of the agreed upon paymeny. If you ever find yourself confronted within Falyndar mention that you a friend of Pua of the Spirit Falcons and I shall vouch for you.” He picked up the papers that detailed the crossbow’s workings and folded them gently before slipping them into a pouch pocket. He scooped up the crossbow as he turned for the door, offering the tinkerer one last smile of gratitude before leaving. Once outside, Pua wasted no time heading for the nearest gate. The watcher, though still present, didn’t even faze Pua as he hustle on to begin the journey home.

((OOC Edit: This thread is now dub over, finished, and completed.))