Solo To gaze upon a fallen ride

Crylon finds some interesting things clearing the land

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

To gaze upon a fallen ride

Postby Crylon Stonecraft on February 17th, 2019, 3:26 pm


78 Winter 518


The longer Crylon spent clearing the land, the more trash he seemed to find. Almost as if it was breeding when he was not looking, he half thought to himself.

The main bit of focus so far in clearing it all had been on the building on the land, but dotted across the expanse of unused property were other heaps. Small piles, bigger chunks, a mashup of debris and things.

Wearing a glove on his right hand he was carefully prying into another such pile with his left arm and hand. Jamming the fingers of the hand like a spike into the chunk to pull something loose seemed a good way to get through the refuse. It seemed whenever something broke or was of no further value it had been tossed in a pile.

This one was taller than him, spread out across a space bigger than a bed by several multiples. So far it had been mostly broken mismatched piece of wood, perhaps belonging to some prior version of the structure that had been built and rebuilt over and over till it had almost nothing of the original place. But even to Crylon's eye for buildings, he could not fathom what the pieces had been originally due to their randomness and having been broken into such small pieces.

The rain and weather coming after had also warped and distorted it all, making it further impossible to tell what had been its original state. He was thrusting his arm elbow deep again when he felt a piece of something solid running vertically within the pile.

Bulling aside a chunk of the pile with his one arm he pulled the arm free and threw bits of wood and detritus flying. This revealed a piece of wood still in one piece, though similarly warped by rain and such soaked through it. This one however seemed intact, and if not sound still in its original shape.

The next bell was spent more or less excavating the thing he had found, like the bones of some long dead creature. As he did so its form slowly came into view. The first bit he found was a roundish joint of wood attached to a base he could somewhat see below the pile with some manhandling. It was made harder to identify as it seemed to be tilted at an angle. It had some bits of tarp, torn off and nailed to the structure, implying that at one point it had been covered in such a tarp.

Spaced out along the base he found another such piece, and another spaced out the same distance away. This made his mind turn back to his earlier thought of digging up an animal, and of the wooden curved bits being ribs. One intact, the others snapped off on either end at varying length so that it no longer curved across.

The more he saw of it the better idea he formed of what it was, though still he seemed to be missing something. A portable tent like structure?

It was when he got to the base on the low side and cleared off a bit of the side that he finally puzzled it out with a further hint. Pulling aside a chunk of debris he found an axle, a rod crossing underneath the base. And snapped in half and lying on the ground next to it was unmistakably a wheel.

Piecing it all together Crylon understood. It was a wagon. Or had once been. Clearly it was now broken. But then it occurred to him that was why it was there. Like the other things it had been broken, and when it was of no more use it had been left there. And then more debris had been thrown on top of it till it had been forgotten. Such a sight saddened Crylon, that such a piece of work, once of use and meant for a purpose would be abandoned like that.

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Crylon Stonecraft
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To gaze upon a fallen ride

Postby Crylon Stonecraft on February 17th, 2019, 4:00 pm


Slowly Crylon worked at cleaning off the wagon, taking apart the pile that had grown around and on top of it. Most of it was small bits of broken material, but also other things. As he went to pull out a length of wood that seemed mostly intact besides having snapped off something at the end, a large rat came crashing out. Clearly it had been nesting in the pile, and Crylon had disturbed it.

After the initial motion however the huge rat came to a halt, seemed to meet Crylon's eyes, before sedately toddling away without a concern. Clearly this one was not scared of people, and felt no need to rush or otherwise react besides leaving. As if its leaving was its own choice, rather than one spurred by Crylon disturbing it.

Focusing back on the wagon he was unearthing, Crylon continued pulling apart the pile. Once he got to the other side of the wagon and began clearing off the sides he saw why the wagon appeared lopsided. Somehow, the wheels on the one side were still intact. Or still attached to the axle anyways.

An eye for design in mind, Crylon spent some time inspecting the structure. It was simple enough, now that he could see more of it. A flat bottom for the base. Below that the joints that held the axles. The axles fed through and attached to the wheels on either side. It rolled. It moved. Or it would, when in its original state.

Some mechanism must also, he reasoned, affect how it turned, but that bit was still obstructed and it seemed perhaps too damaged to glean such a mechanism. Sure enough when he got to the front he could see broken bits of wooden jamming out like bones sticking out from flesh. He could see where it once attached to the axle, but now broken off and removed he could not fully see how it had appeared before.

Surely though, Crylon reasoned, it was similar to other such carriages and wagons. Something pulled at the front. If they turned, then the front axle and wheels upon them turned upon the axle, allowing it to change direction. While he could not see the particulars of this wagon, he did not expect it to stray too far from others he had seen.

Focusing on the top, Crylon hauled and pulled and moved things about, using both arms with vigor to pull and wedge things out, and his left arm as a club or pick to break or pull apart when needed. Wihin another quarter bell he could see all of the ribs of the back, clearly once having been a covered wagon. Now only one was intact, the others all broken. But in his mind he could see it. Rounded bits of wood, arcing over the back. A tarp pulled tight and fastened into place. Sheltering whatever was left in the back from the elements, the rain pouring down on the sky trying to inundate and mar. To soak through and ruin things with its wetness. Dirty from the smoke and smog coming off the great burning pile of trash across the city. Not reaching the ground clean, and dirtying anything it landed on.

Now though... Gazing down at the broken back of the wagon, in the spot where it had died and been left, Crylon imagined what it had once looked like. Before use and time had ruined it. Even the bits that were still intact were not very good, having been left out for anything to get at it. Rain. Rats. Ruination.

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To gaze upon a fallen ride

Postby Crylon Stonecraft on February 17th, 2019, 4:36 pm


As he continued to pull at bits of debris, clearing off more of the wagon, Crylon pondered what it had been doing there. What had it carried? Or surely what all it had carried. Such a vehicle would likely have a long history of use, or carrying things about before it was broken and left where it lay.

Such was the way of Sunberth. If too much trouble to fix, another would simply replace it. Many things like buildings and clothe were endlessly patched and repaired, but if too much trouble the thing would just be cast aside and another taken up and used in a similar manner.

Humans, or Sunberthians he supposed, had no respect for things. For things being made well. Used. Reused. For the act of creation of making something of use. Or value. Of creating value, not just taking it. How many in Sunberth did he know who actually made things, and did not just take or destroy? Kelski made things, though of a different sort entirely from Crylon. But still working with metal and things and making something. Adding value to the base material.

Surely there were others. People who cut and prepared wood. Others who built new things from that wood. Wagons. Carts. Carriages. Tables. Sowed cloth, cobbled boots, grew crops. Industry. Making. The lifeblood of an Isur, of the kingdom of Isur and Sultros, as much as anything else.

And if they did not? Well then, he supposed, he would just have to show them all the merits of it. Of making things. Of making them well, and to last.

Looking down at the abandoned and wrecked wagon, Crylon quietly spoke a prayer to it, to Izurdin, using his native tongue as usual rather than common.


“My blessed Lord Izurdin. This day I endeavor to reflect your might. Your strength. Your patience. Your wisdom and glory in every thing I make. I sit here with the shell of a humble wagon, another small bit of your domain if one left forgotten and to rot. I dwell in a city which seems to have for the most part forgotten your wisdom. Forgotten how to build, how to make. Preferring to take, or destroy. I ask only that you lend me your strength in any way you can. That you show me your path, the one you desire, to help me put Sunberth on the path to understanding and respecting your domain. Whether it takes a day, a year, or decades to come. Mold me into a tool to serve you, as I every day try to improve and mold myself into a tool to better serve you.”

Letting out a sigh Crylon moved towards the wagon, moving to clear off the back end of the side with the broken wheel. He had cleared out the side with the wheels still attached. Had cleared off the front half on the broken side, finding the broken wheel there. All that was left was the last corner, and the rest of the debris still loaded atop the wagon.

It was as he got to this last corner though, that Crylon found something odd. It appeared the reason for the wagon being abandoned. The entire corner was broken, axle and all, the wheel no where to be seen. And the side of the wagon was broken, with some large blocky object stuck into it. Wedged in, perhaps pushed further in by the motion of the wagon continuing to move once the axle broke and the object fell over. He could not tell what it was, something covered in a tarp wrapped about it several times, the outer layer showing signs of wear and being nibbled at. It was heavy though, and apparently to much effort to pull free, and so it had been left behind when the rest of the original contents had he assumed been carried free.

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Crylon Stonecraft
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To gaze upon a fallen ride

Postby Crylon Stonecraft on February 17th, 2019, 5:02 pm


Pulling free the last of the debris, Crylon pondered how to free the object. It was thoroughly wedged in. The only way to get it free, was to either break the bits of the wagon surrounding it, or... Or to cut it free.

Heading back to his room, Crylon got out his kit for building, and returned with a saw. The wood was damaged from time and the elements, but still tough, and seemed to belligerently refuse to give. Perhaps implying quality craftsmanship when the wagon was originally created.

Moving a bit along the wagon, Crylon began sawing at the wood by bracing himself with his right and sawing with his stronger left arm. Clearly someone had been too impatient to do the job properly before, and so had left whatever it was he had found behind in the wagon.

Once that was cut through Crylon moved to the other side, and began cutting at the wood there which also wedged the object into place.

With a bit more cutting he was able to free the object, and then found another reason it had been left. It was heavy, clearly whatever was inside it having some weight and not being hollow.

It took Crylon several chimes of pushing and pulling to find the proper leverage, the proper way to move the object so that it would come free, but eventually he did. From how it moved he could tell it was box, or some squared object. A few more turns found it freed, and some more pulling and turning found him the end of the tarp. It had been wedged tight as well, and took some doing to get loose, but free of the wagon he was able to get it to come loose and unwrapped from the object.

To find himself presented with a trunk. A large trunk, old and dinged but still intact. Likely Crylon reasoned, still intact from a mix of the protective tarp and debris covering it along with it also being well made.

Righting the trunk and undoing the metal clasps that held it closed, Crylon opened the trunk to see what he would find. As his eyes fell upon its contents he lost his breath, and fell to his knees. Without a thought he tore free the glove covering his right hand, and began to examine and feel the contents with both sets of hands fingers. Like a musician dancing his fingers over the strings of a new instrument, he touched and saw and examined.

After a few chimes he choked in a ragged breath, his eyes watering as he remembered to breath. It was Isurian. So clearly Isurian, of Isur design and make. Made by Isur. For Isur. Tools. Tools finer than any he had seen before, even home in Sultros. A fortune in Isurian Steel, something he also had not seen any of since leaving his home.

Carefully, with reverence, Crylon pooled a tool free. A hammer. The case was fitted, each tool placed within its own padded recess perfectly made to hold it. Which was why it had not jangled or rattled as it was moved. When closed the tools were locked into place, not allowed to jiggle or move. It was like he had opened the case and found a bit of home within. But more home than even his home had been back in Sultros. This was what it was to be Isur. Tools graced by Izurdin just as much as the arm he had been blessed with.

Crylon did not question. Did not doubt. So clear a response to a prayer surely had never occurred. The tools sang with the voice of Izurdin, clearly a sign from him. An answer, to tell him he was on the right path.

Careful to keep any tears from falling on the tools, Crylon spent a few chimes calming himself, letting the tears subside, before replacing the tools and closing the trunk. And then with a great bit of effort Crylon hauled it back to the Gem, to his room, where he would examine its depth more deeply.

As he passed he made one last look at the wagon, wondering where it had come from. How the trunk had gotten there. Taken from Isurian hands. But returned now, back to them, which was what mattered.

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Crylon Stonecraft
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To gaze upon a fallen ride

Postby Orakan on April 12th, 2019, 2:16 am

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ImageCrylon
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Skills
● Scavenging - 2XP
● Observation - 4XP
● Investigation - 3XP
● Cleaning - 1XP
● Salvaging - 1XP
● Logic - 2XP
● Engineering - 1XP
● Deduction - 2XP
● Bodybuilding - 2XP
● Philosophy - 1XP
● Prayer - 1XP

Lores
● Scavenging: Using your Isur arm to pick through piles of junk
● Scavenging: The long process of trying to unearth something of value from a pile of ruined junk
● Investigation: Puzzling out what a structure is based on its many broken pieces
● Salvaging: Trying to preserve what's left of a broken wagon
● Basic covered wagon: Design, mechanics and properties
● Engineering: Understanding what is required to make a wagon move and turn
● Observation: Appraising the level of ruin a structure is in
● Bodybuilding: Using leverage and angle to help lift and move a heavy object
● Feeling overwhelmed with emotion after discovering a cache of Isurian tools
● A prayer answered
● Isurian Construction Toolkit: Contents and appearance

Misc/Penalities/Loot
Congratulations! Crylon has acquired his Isurian Construction Toolkit! Thanks for updating the links in his CS <3

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I really love how you described unearthing the wagon like unearthing a skeleton and Crylon's ability to see the beauty and potential of even ruined things. He's such a neat character and I adore how you tied everything together so beautifully. Thanks for the read! Do let me know if you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade and don't forget to delete/edit your request in the grading queue.
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“The means to every crime is ours,
and we employ them all,
we multiply the horror a hundredfold.”

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Orakan
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