He managed to pull himself up onto a branch and sat there, his smile faltering a bit.
Ah, no. They, uhh...they don't like non-Drow to visit the deep Overwood. I mean, they knew we were....you know. It'd be bad for me. I can't follow her. He paused a second.
But...hopefully she can come to Wistvale. We're planning on that later.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
We're not really party people. He was silent another moment. He stood on the branch and held himself steady with one hand, the other hand pointing into the sky.
Grayell. Did...did you ever wish you could fly?
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Grayell smiled when he said that and his head rocked back against the tree, eyes finding the clouds.
I think we all do. To glide over the hills, to be among the clouds... and to look down on a world filled with our problems that then seem so far away... so insignificant.
Yes. I think it would be liberating. But even birds must come to roost sooner or later.
When I figure out how. Just...fly over the Overwood, get her and Nikole, bring her back here. He sighed and jumped off the tree, still looking into the sky.
Eventually.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
They rode the rest of the day, rode hard and by nightful were concealed in a small patch of dense woods between many rolling hills. Grayell knew precisely where they needed to be but the thing that had concerned him the most was the smoke he'd seen earlier in the day, a thick, black tendril that rode the eastern sky. Chaz had seen it too, but Gray had only spurred them on and said nothing at the time. It was apparent he was focussed on their objective and once the horses were seen to, he and Chaz crept up one hill to lie at the crest, looking at the open valley floor below. And there it was.
It was drawn by at least 30 Yakows, had a swarm of men either on horseback or upon the thing... it was a massive, bastard platform with nasty, jadded spiked defenses and scaffolding that wound through the giant mechanism to lead to a tower where someone who appeared to be in charge was barking orders. Nasty, bloody big orcs were the flavor of the day, accompanied by a handful of goblins who looked to be seeing to the contraption.
It had a massive tank or vat, connected to numerous pipes and valves, all being the source of the smoke. It smelled of burned leather and bubbled and moaned as it boiled and rolled, a terrible yellow orange magma. After numerous crude contraptions of whatever nature, it ended with one very large barrel, painted to look like a orcish rendition of some dread animal. Smoke rose from that barrel too.
Grayell did not understand the contraption or what they were up against, but instead grinned with the devil in his eyes.
Alright. I get the orcs, you get to figure it out. Think it's dangerous?
Chaz's eyes widened and went a little blank and glazed as he stared. He spoke in a rapid fire monotone.
The base chemical is a gelatinous form of nitroglycerin, found and harvested from trees in the jungles of Moroca, normally incredibly hazardous, but rendered partially inert by both pressure and a sizable dose of a calcium base. Secondary chambers heat and pressurize the mixture using the rotational energy from the wheels, converted via gearshafts into friction and then heat. Chambers allowed to build pressure and then forced via butterfly valve into the firing chamber, allowing it to fire molten glycerin at upwards of... He did some quick math.
Seventy miles per hour with an estimated landing temperature of four hundred degrees Fahrenheit. As it cools it would revert to its gelatin form, seeping down into the cracks of buildings and along the ground. Seven hours to cool. Would burn wood, flesh, even bone away and leave behind most metals to be smelted and repurposed. He sunk down a little, licking his lips.
Removal of the butterfly valve should allow the mixture to harmlessly cool and the machine lose pressure. Would be dangerous and they would no doubt have security in place. Hypothetically if they were desperate they could set off the machine, overheating the main boiler, resulting in a massive explosion as the heat and pressure exceeded the boiler's breaking point.
He shook his head, as if he didn't know what he'd spoken like that. He looked to Grayell sheepishly.
So. Little dangerous, yeah.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
For a moment, Chaz tried to stop him, but knew he couldn't really do anything about it. He watched him go and then crept over the hill, trying to stay out of sight while Gray did the distracting.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Grayell bounced down the hill side and then broke into an almost causal walk. The Orcs upon the ground had spotted him by then and hollered to those riding the siege weapon, weapons now prepping.
Grayell ignored them and walked toward the Yakows and lead guards with his arms folded, stood in their path and then.... laughed.