GrandParade

Log Info

• Title: Machinists Grand Parade
• Emitter: Kaliara
• Characters: Vast and Many: Chiddle, Abrahil, Kaliara, Valadhiel, Craft, Vasilly, Nasirri, Lyme
• NPCs: Too Many To Note
• Place: Alexandria - Highbridge
• Time: Jan 8, 2011
• Summary: The Machinists Convention gets underway in Alexandria with a Grand Parade of Wonderment and Machinized Astonishing Effects!

Needing a distraction, it seems that most of Alexandria has come out to view the Machinists Grand Parade. But then, who doesn't LOVE a Parade. Sandy aside.

There is the sound of calliopes and even fully automated bands practicing in the background, mixing with chitter and chatter from the swelling crowds despite the cold, turning a caucophany into a symphony for those of the Machinists Convention.

Upon the Highbridge is set up a stand. Upon the stand are several seats and a draped table, along with enzothermic orbs in brass stands helping to keep those seated at the table warm. Sound Amplification and Distance Telecommunication devices are set up throughout the parade route, and right now a choir of Priests of Reos along with a symphony of metalic instruments are performing for the croud as the parade starts to gear up to beginning.

Valadhiel stands in the back of the crowd, looking curiously towards the preparations for the parade. She smiles a bit, absently noting a few of the more arcane preparations for the artifice parade as she hms quietly to herself.

"Did you--oh! Oh, my." Abrahil, the tip of hair atop the top of his bald head breezes through the wind as the small gnome flusters about. He's one of a small crew--a small crew wearing browns and belts and carrying hammers and saws. They're attempting to raise a--set of sticks.

"They're starting already! Just--just hurry!" and he wrings his hands. He wears the same, drab coloring. Some stitching on the back marks a local Alexandrian theatre company.

Craft, for his part, isn't really one for art, but he shares an intense interest in artifice with his roommate. The dog, with it's sensitive ears, is left at home, along with the majority of Craft's tools, but he keeps the hammer at his side, a life spent fighting for survival leaving him somewhat paranoid. Magicite eyes follow the devices, watching with a craftsman's scrutiny.

Craft has a growth! Or rather, there is a half-elf with twin pixie-pony tails on the top of her head. Having her arms and giggling, Kaliara leans down and hugs the head of the War Golem. "This is great! I"ll be able to see EVERYTHING! Can you see? I'm not breaking any gears am I? OH wow, this is so awesome!"

Valadhiel murmurs under her breath about learning a levitate spell, though she does have a fair amount of height compared to most of the human bystanders. She then glances over towards the unusual pair of the war golem and half-elf, raising a hand to them in greeting.

Lyme is there, looking grumpy. He's got a big hat pulled down over his face to shade his eyes, and maybe shield his heritage from the most casual inspection. Perhaps he, himself, doesn't love a parade. However, he's still there, no matter how sour he looks.

Vasilly comes wandering up the length of the bridge, her stride easy. She's carrying a crate, presumably to sit upon and enjoy the parade.

Abrahil glances through the crowd--his spectacles slide off his nose. Or threaten to. As he does, one of the planks comes tumbling down, and sends a CRASH! through the preparatory sounds of symbols and music and prayer.

For a moment, the beachball looks stymied. "I...oh, oh my. I really hadn't intended on that. ...has anyone got any tape?" and he's jogging off to make last minute 'adjustments.'

Chiddle, meanwhile, is not with the main crowd- rather, he is running some last minute checks on his own showing for this event. He's kept it veiled for now, which means the only outward signs of the gnome's furious last minute inspections is the rustling of the sheet that covers it, and the occasionall glimpse of a gnomish hand darting out to grab a nearby tool.

"I do not believe I contain gears," Craft remarks, raising a tridactyl hand to help hold Kali in place as he looks this way and that. "However, I will let you know if I fear damage," he says, a certain fondness in his metallic voice as he spots Valadhiel, giving a slow nod of his helm-like head.

The choir of Reosites finishes, the symphony of metal ends with a flourish, and there is applause all around the stand which holds various 'Very Important Persons' for today's event. For a moment, a bit of feed-back flairs in the Amplification and Telecommunication Arrays, before a man with a silky and dulcet tones.

"GOOD DAY, ALEXANDRIA!" comes the man's voice ringing through amplified sound projection devices scattered around the parade route. "Welcome to this year's Machinsts Grand Parade!" Cheers erupt at this news along the parade route.

"Thanks to the Alexandrian Reoite Choral and Metalphoney Society for the beautiful music they opened this day with. And now... LET THE PARADE BEGIN!" Along with the roar of the crowd, trumpets blair to life, followed by a pounding of drums rolling into a marching song!

(For those interested, please listen to: http://fliiby.com/file/303178/95w91ia7gx.html)

Standing amid the crowds gathered to see the parade, Jareth thought it a good idea to join in the merriment. Shaking his head in wonder and laughing at some of the marvels of artifice and engineering going by, the Daeusite warrior claps his hands in appreciation at the grand display of ingenuity and, in some case, borderline insanity.

The local theatrical group continues to work, now furiously as the parade actually begins to MOVE. They struggle, conferring in chattering voices, and slowly, slowly...a thing begins to come together. Abrahil's face is red and sweat-covered, with tiny beads breaking out along its surface. The small gnome throws his weight behind a set of ropes--and working together, they slowly begin to raise what looks like a large piece of canvas.

Kaliara looks down at Craft when he greets Valadhiel, then looks back towards the elf. A smile blossoms on the half-elf's face and she waves vigorously to Valadhiel, as well, before gasping as the band starts up! "OOOH! It's starting! It's STARTING!" she exclaims patting Craft on the head.

Lyme turns, and winces a little at the static. He moves through the crowd to intercept Vasilly, eyeing the crate and asking: "You seriously think this will be fun?" He gestures a hand towards the choir, before waiting for the crate to drop. "Well. Fine."

Vasilly shifts, turning the crate onto the ground. "Anything is fun when you come prepared," she replies. Then she pauses, listening to the choir, lips curving, grin amused. Then she reaches into her boot and pulls out a flask. Prepared. Wind hits the canvas edges, and creates a harsh flap-flap sound. It rises slowly into the air--and creaks. Threatens to topple towards the cro--

"No, no, wait! The other way, the OTHERRR WAAAAY!"

Gnomes. Gnomes are here. At the parade. And Abrahil is among them, waving his hands furiously. Valadhiel smiles back towards Kaliara, about to say hello, when the music starts. Then she naturally turns to watch the parade in actual action, chuckling a little bit. The chuckling stops, though, when she sees the gnomes. Gnomes. Why did it have to be gnomes? The sound Craft's head makes is somewhat akin to slapping a hand on a steel door, but doesn't travel far before the drums drown it out entirely.

"Indeed," he says fondly, watching curiously, the machines making the music more interesting to him than the music itself. Lyme snorts, and puts a foot up on the back of the crate. He grumbles, "You'd better share. I've brought food, at least." He smacks a leather satchel as he cants his head towards the start of the parade, and the music, and the what?

Chiddle finally gets the que to get his float moving, and he acks, caught off guard. He does pull the sheet off, though, revealign the tall... almost mushroom-shaped device. The float begins to chung along forwards as the anouncers introduce him- "Leading the procession we have a local rising- an independant artificer and arcanist- fusing the power of arcane magic with the science of engineering. It's Chiddle Blastbottle, and a device he calls an Aetheric Transduction Pylon!"

And Chiddle begins to come into view, just as he gestures towards one of his helpers to begin turning the hefty crank at the base of the machine. There's a few seconds of delay, before small tendrils of electricity begin to leap out of the top of the device. After a few more moments, the crank is getting into full swing and the tendrils extend into long, forked bolts that leap into the sky. Now that the crank is going, the helper hops off and it seems to continue moving by itself- the lightning arcing forth lighting the area around the float and producing a scrackling hum.

"That way, that way--!!!" hisses one of the theatricals, furiously, from behind the lines. Abrahil is there amid that brown-jacketed crowd, wringing his hands over his paunch. And then, well--the canvas STANDS UP.

It looks sort of like a person.

Abrahil glances over his shoulder, and runs to help with the ropes, the pulleys. Whatever it is they're doing, it could topple. Overall, it doesn't look as sturdy as Chiddle's design. But, it does add to the general gnome count.

Just as the canvas stands up, the next musical calliope comes into view and begins playing a rather detailed and dramatic theme.

(If you would like to listen to the music, please visit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9yrB9Jv04U )

"What kind of food?" Vasilly says, sitting on the crate (not really caring what she can see, at this point). Unscrewing the cap of the flask, she lifts it to her lips, taking a long swig. She then passes it ot Lyme.

Kaliara blinks, and reaches up to pull down her goggles, as if that would give a better view. "LOOK! Chiddle's entry! LOOK! LOOK! ... Ooooooh... listen to the diversity of sounds that this guy can manage through a vox sythasizing crystal!"

"Rather fond of lightening, isn't he?" Craft remarks regarding his fellow adventurer. Eyes turn, then, to the person-shaped canvas. "Are things like that common at parades?" he asks his reference on organic society as a whole.

Lyme takes a swig, and swings the satchel around. "Sandwiches." He flips the top open, then stops, mouth agape. "That's -- storms in the clear sky."

Valadhiel weaves through the crowd, standing near Craft and Kaliara, "Well, I'm not entirely sure. We never had parades /quite/ like this at Rune." She smiles, "A little more magic, a little less mechanical devices." A faint shrug, at that, as she watches the lightning contraption with more than a little caution.

Vasilly reaches for the sandwiches, immediately taking a big bite. She chews and swallows before speaking (despite what issues with manners she may otherwise display). "Huh" declared. Then. "Fancy."

Chiddle turns towards the crowd, and then gestures to another helper he's hired who is wearing a rather impractical and uncomfortable looking suit of extremely heavy chainmail and leather- "Observe!" He calls out. "This man has no magical talent- but what you are about to see may shock and amuse you! He is going to pluck lightning from the air, and direct it as he wills!" he informs them. And then he nods towards the help. Who gulps. He stands ontop of a metal plate and Chiddle pulls down a pair of goggles over his eyes- he pulls a lever and the lightning which, so far, had been leaping out of the 'cap' of the device at random suddenly diverts, arking right into the helper, drawing a gasp fromt he crowd. But, despite the massive current, he is not fired- the electriticy flows through the chainmail suit, and leaps out of him. He reaches one hand towards the electricity, and another for the sky, and just as promised, forked bolts of lightning leap forth from his fingertip into the sky. "It works! IT WORKS! I'M ALIVE!" the helper cries out.

Lyme offers the flask back to Vasilly, as he grabs a sandwich of his own. He stares. "Yeah, that's fancy. I can think of a thing or two that I could do with that."

"Oh, magic would be interesting, but seeing all the moving parts, not neccissarily based on magic or artifice, but gears and figuring it out with your own hands and the sweat of your brow ... Well, anyway, this will be fun! I go EVERY year to this parade!" exclaims Kaliara giggling on Craft's shoulders.

"Well, look at that, folks!" comes the announcers voice over the various 'speakers', "Shocked and scorched, but still alive! The wonders of artifice and machinery! Everyone, give the young man some applause!"

"Like what?" Vasilly asks before taking another bite of sandwich. She takes a swig of the flask to wash it down.

As the crowd applauds Chiddle, another invention begins to stir along he parade line. The earlier canvas begins to right itself until it stands, straightlike, in the air--much like a creature. Ten feet at its greatest, a set of wooden legs stick out like a scarecrow's at the bottom. Flustered, Abrahil leans over to whisper to one of the browncoats, "We're on!" and then--well, the beast of mechanical engineering swings into motion.

Man-like, of flapping canvas--it begins to 'walk' down the parade aisle with the help of pulleys and levers. Gnomes, even a human or two, work the strings. 'Alexandrian Screwapart Theatricals!' is emblazoned on their jackets. And they sweat, groan, and pull...and the creature walks, taking one wobbly stride after the other down the parade lane.

Stepping back, Abrahil wipes the sweat from his features--and utters a few words. Soon, the head of the canvas creature shimmers. Glimmers. The whole of the thing begins to change, and through the power of illusion, becomes a great, slittering, shimmering...

Gnomish angel of Reos, with great, mechanical wings that stretch benignly outward. And a giant, cheerful grin, three feet across.

Chiddle's demonstration draws Craft's attention, enough that he drops out of the conversation. Kali would likely recognize it as him wrapping his head around a question. He, however, does not applaud.

The walking Calliope, on oscillating spindles and legs finishes it's previous song, and strikes up another dramatic tune, piping through various horns, flutes and other magicite vox crystals.

(The song has now changed to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajqUj60FlsA)

As Chiddle's demonstration passes, Craft's eyes are drawn to the canvas man, and, on it's transformation, he wonders aloud. "Angel?"

Kaliara tilts her head to the side and blinks a few times. "I... guess so. It's pretty cool, though. I wonder what sort of lattice framework they're using on the inside?" she asks Craft, sighing wistfull as she rests elbows on the war golem's head, and her chin in the palms of her hands.

Chiddle hops off the float, leaving his helpers to man it now that it's passed the main body of the crowd. He pushes the goggles back up and off his head, as he squeezeshis way towards a certain half elf he recognizes and her war golem companion.

Valadhiel smiles slightly, "I'm not entirely sure, but it is a very well-crafted device, for certain." She claps softly in approval, arching a brow as she continues to watch, asiding to Kaliara, "This is the first parade that I have had a chance to see here."

Lyme starts humming along with the music, as he chews. Not a great combination, so he stops. Still, he's humming again before long. "That's catchy."

Creeeeeeaaak, goes the gnomish angel. It smiles Widely as it looks out upon the crowd, not unlike a clown would. Its ruddy, reddish cheeks blossom in cherries. And then after a few paces, it creaks again, pulleys and levers beeeeending it downwards.

To stoop.

Right in front.

Of Craft.

More pulleys and levers work to bring an arm forward, and the angel offers Craft a single lolipop. It's a war golem's lolipop--a gear, covered in grease and dripping on some sort of spring as a stick. And this close, a basket at its side is also evident. Evidently, Reos' angel will be offering lollipops to people in the crowd.

As Chiddle starts walking over towards her, Kaliara shifts to try and sit a little taller on Craft's shoulders, waving vigorously! "CHIDDLE! Come here! Over here! HIIII! Have you met Craft? And this ... " she starts pointing to Valadhiel then blinks. "I don't know who this iiiiiissssss .... EEEEEEEK!" *pause* *blink* *stare* "Well... that was nice of it."

Vasilly taps her foot, nodding. "Yeah." Then she stands up, getting into the crate to watch the display. "It's doing something," murmured.

As the parade moves on, so does the oscillation calliope - it crosses the Highbridge and moves on past the Western Market. A float on rollers, with bi-dimensional rotation soom comes into view. "Welcome back, everyone, the Reoite Choral and Metalphoney Society singing their new piece!"

(The music now changes to: http://www.sgsosu.net/osu/media/o_fortuna.mp3)

Craft watches the angel for a moment, magicite eyes on the offered item before, realizing it's being offered, he takes it, turning it over in his hands before looking back towards the device. He raises his hand, offering the trinket to Kaliara. "Here," he says, a certain fondness for the excitable half-elf in his voice as his attention turns to Chiddle. "It travels along the metal?" he asks the artificer.

Valadhiel glances up at Kaliara, then nods to Chiddle, "Valadhiel, I think I've seen you about, during the war and such. We had the mission for the generators, didn't we?"

Lyme reaches out for Vasilly's flask, as she stands up. "What'm I missing?" He pauses. "THat's catchy, too. Someone needs to give that choral director a beer."

Chiddle nods hsi head at craft then. "Yes- of course, there's much more going on that you can't see without arcane sight of some kind." he informs him then. "But it is... difficult to properly explain without a demonstration. This is a small, portable version I made. I am working on schematics for a larger version." he informs the golem then.

Not all of the lollipops look like something out of a dirty engine.

Some of them actually look edible, with bright colors and sparkles and sprinkles. Colors you'd expect for children. Colors you'd expect for a parade. And colors--destined to send any dentist into fits.

After Craft takes the lollipop, the canvas-divinity bobs with the croak and groan of levers--then walks on down the way to hand out more as the parade moves forward. It leaves a small amount of grease and twine on the bench in its wake.

Chiddle also nods Valadhiel's way, "Yes- I seem to recall that. Weren't you at the drum as well?" he asks her then. And to Kaliara, he wonders- "Did you enter any invention into the parade?"

Kaliara blushes as she looks at Chiddle and shakes her head. "No, I've been busy just ... I mean, it... well, I just didn't have anything, I'm afraid," she says with a deep sigh. Then she looks at the lollipop, wipes it off on her shirt, then starts lick it happily.

"I don't know the words to describe it," Vasilly says, handing him the flask as she recognizes the limitations of her vocabulary. Her brow furrowed, she watches the parade, the half eaten sandwich in her hand momentarily forgotten.

Valadhiel nods, "Probably, the drum eludes me for the moment, but I was rather busy with the war effort. Not that many evokers available, so I had to spread myself pretty thin sometimes." She smiles to Chiddle, "The parade is very nice, indeed. Your invention was quite impressive."

Lyme sips at the flask, and huhs, looking up and out himself. "They should just stick to singing. I like that."

"I believe we only saw each other in the sewers," Craft remarks of Chiddle. A moment's thought. "You were working with harnessing lightening even then, if I recall," he remarks. "My own tasks were more... blunt force. I was appointed to assist with the cannons in the final push." His neck isn't really built for letting him see what Kali's doing on his shoulders with the grease-covered gear.

Kaliara wrinkles her nose after a lick or three. "Well, at least it wasn't cheak oruch grease," she notes before resting on Craft's head again. "Oh, yes... I forgot about that. I do that often, I admit," she notes with a sigh, then a smile at Valadhiel. "Nice to see you again outside of the war."

Lyme hands back Vasilly her flask, and digs out another sandwich. "Dancing, you say. I think that giant thing might dance." His mouth twists, shaking his head.

Chiddle nods his head a bit. "It's a powerful force. Utilizing it for destruction is easy, but it's rather harder to tame it for more practical purposes." He comments to the war golem then. "The electical charge in that was generated by an oscillating aethercyte- as it passes through the weave the shear forces generate potential energy. The metal colum amplifies the energy." he informs them then. "I believe the same sort of technology could be used to harvest power from areas of high magical flux, such as ley lines, without the need for mechanical oscilation. I haven't had the chance to test my theory, yet, though."

Rumbling over the Highbridge, the singing smiths move on, allowing another entry to come into view. Behind it, several War Golems are working a very complex musical device. "And now comes an entry from Doctor Sanden - a master of mining and ore smithing machinery!" rumbles the announcer's voice.

Doctor Earnest Sanden's Bottled-Lightning Boring Machine lumbers down the street, striding along on eight spider-jointed legs. Its barrel body is large enough to accomodate both commericial needs and a piloting booth, inhabited by a beaming man festooned with a garish mock-up of mining kit, including a wildly-swinging mana light on his forehead. He turns from side to side, waving to all and sundry, clearly visible in the cockpit. Behind that its a large storage bin, attached to the front arms by large conveyor assemblies. The body is also lined with a series of steam-belching exhaust pipes, elaborately connected to an engine buried beneath the cockpit.

The arms are the real star of this show, however, swinging heavily in front of the bottled-lightning borer -- diamond-tipped screws rotating slowly in the open-arm, with various nozzles pointed out from a gaping maw that leads back up the arms.

A mana-enhanced voice screams from loudspeakers: "COME SEE THE FUTURE OF MINING! DOCTOR SANDEN'S BOTTLED-LIGHTNING BORER!"

(The music now shifts to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYU4haLJIXI --- FUN FOR ALL!)

The giant gnome continues down the parade. It bobs and weaves mechanically towards the crowd. Occasionally it lifts out a lollipop. Of course, at its feet, Abrahil is sweating, a puff-faced thing. He's one of a small crew as it moves through the event. And he's one of the ones that looks back--his eyes nearly pop from his face, and Abrahil scurries as much as he can to move theirs Faster, FASTER! This Dr. Sanden is. Clearly. A madman.

"What else can drinking and music lead to?" Vasilly says, shrugging her shoulders. She considers the big canvas thing, then stands up again to have a look at the newest contraption. "Mining. I hear that's where loot actually comes from."

Lyme perks up, with interest. "You mean when they pull it out of the ground?" He climbs up himself. "That's pretty neat." There's a pause. "I love booty." He catches himself. "I mean, I love jewelry."

The large device draws Craft's attention, but, rather than look at the mining equipment itself, his attention seems to be more on his fellow War Golems, the magicite glow of his eyes dimming.

Kaliara watches the latest entry, letting her hand drop and offering the lollipop back to Craft. But feeling something ... shift in Craft, after all, she is on his shoulders, the half-elf shifts, so that she can lean all the way over and look from an up-side down vantage at Craft's face. She frowns for a long moment, watching him and his impassive face. "What's wrong?" she finally asks.

With a little luck, Abrahil's vanished into the parade. The gnome looks over his shoulder, now and again. And again and now. Ahead of him, the angel continues to weave. It then begins to leeeeeeaaaaaaan. Offers a treat to a small child.

"Yeah, and not like when the chest is buried, but like, before it ever became jewelry," Vasilly shares her knowledge of the origin of treasure, then finishes her sandwich.

Lyme looks down, and says: "There's another sandwich in there, if you're hungry." He nods. "Yeah, before it ever becomes jewelry. Its pretty neat. Its a /big/ machine."

"I wonder if they are paid," Craft remarks, lowly. "Some... bad memories," he says to the concerned face. "Thanks," Vasilly says, reaching in and taking out a sandwich. "What's it doing?" asked.

Valadhiel blinks and looks over at Craft, "I would hope so... I mean, I can't imagine why they wouldn't..." She pauses, and looks more closely at Craft, "Well, I guess it's possible. If you want, I could make a few discrete inquiries?"

Despite the frightening appearing of Doctor Sanden's device, it doesn't blow up ... until it gets to the Western Market with a loud 'boom' and a large puff of acrid black smoke. There isn't ALOT of screaming and running, so most likely it didn't hurt anyone in the crowd.

"And now, ALexandria, we have the last of our entries. Here we have Phabian Philpot's Philharmonic Phancies! These little clockwork devices are said to be specifically tuned to an individual instrument and mimic it perfectly!" offers the announcer as the crowd starts to disappear behind the last of the entries.

(The music finally ends with: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7csGhMQoQms)

Craft gives a slow nod to Valadhiel, the magicite of his eyes still dim, almost as if he were squinting. "And it's poorly made," he says with a more professional distaste. "Huh. Bright lights," Vasilly says, stepping up next to Lyme, carefully balancing. "What's this one?" she ays, turning to the last entry.

Kaliara smiles while still situating herself up-side down at Craft, before hugging his head as best she can. "This is Alexandria. They were either paid or volunteered because it interested them," says the half-elf with the brightest smile she's ever given.

Then she flips herself upright and sits back down on the war golem's shoulders and continues to try and hug his head - Like ... it would somehow help.

Lyme looks down, and shrugs. "More singing. Its not catchy like that earlier song, though." He hums along -- its the final countdown.

Craft pats at Kaliara's thigh, the eyes brightening again as he considers the clockworks. "Do you know many of these inventors, Kaliara?" he wonders.

"It-it! No, no. Oh no, no, n--" comes from down the line. And then, as a side effect--the angel bursts into flames from one of the flying sparks. All at once, the small troupe is thrown into trying to manage it--but Reos flames ahead, one manly stride after the other.

Before, eventually, the construct crumbles into a pile of ash.

"Hmm," Vasilly says, watching. Then as the angel catches on fire, she turns, hand to her sword. "Is that on purpose?" asked of the fire.

Lyme cranes towards the flames, squinting a bit. "There's a lot of running around. I'm going to guess that its not intended. But it /is/ strangely pretty."

Valadhiel blinks, "Probably not, but I suspect that there's a few clerics that have water spells prepared..." She arches a brow, "Hopefully they keep it away from buildings."

"Is that... common?" Craft wonders, regarding the bursting into flames. He looks to the 'lollipop.' "Oh," he says. "That... was poor planning."

Kaliara winces and flinches and looks away, only to keep a sidelong glance on the crashed and burning 'angel'. "Ow... that ... had to hurt," she murmurs, before looking at the others.

Seeing the burning puppet, the announcer comes back on the system, "Don't worry, folks! That's what the Crack Clockwork Point Artifice Containment Unit is for! Ahhh, here they come now!" says the man, as a group of gnomes carrying a bucket of liquid and a bucket of a light powerdery substance into view. Shifting around the burning piece, the powdery substence is poured on first, followed by the liquid, which immediately causes the powder to foam, spreading over the flame and quenching it. "Give a hand to the Crack Clockwork Point Artifice Containment Squad, everyone! Come on, Alexandria, let's hear a cheer for these ingenious gnomes!" bellows the announcer pleasingly!

"Should I be concerned that they had countermeasures in place for this sort of thing?" Craft asks Kaliara, though he's no doubt heard some of the explosions around their home.

Abrahil shudders, and takes a step back from the smouldering remains. He's covered in sweat, with the tiny pouf atop his head plastered to his skull. He takes out a handkerchief to wipe at it. "Thank--oh, thank you. That wasn't intended at...at all."

Giggling, Kaliara shakes her head back and forth. "No, no. Of course you shouldn't be concerned. You should be glad that someone THOUGHT to have countermeasures," says Kaliara. "After all... with the propencity for things to go wrong at the Enclave ... I'm glad someone decided to be prepared."

Abrahil shoves the handkerchief in his pocket, and looks worriedly towards That Other explosion.

And stiffens his back.

SOMEone. Is getting sued.

The fat little gnome heads off. With waddling purpose.