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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2017 23:11:05 GMT
No public transportation could have found its way to a village this remote. It was old, and old-fashioned enough that some people could have called it 'backward'. The buildings were mostly made of stone and masonry, in a way that modern buildings rarely were, but establishing a supply line between the city and a village like this one would have been costly, and no one had cared enough to do it. Instead, they should have been stuck with technology out of the millenia past, but oddly, they weren't. Each small building had electric lights, and the only hint of power lines were found near the sheer rock descents that flanked the village on two sides. The people didn't seem to notice if their town was odd. Though they weren't numerous, they weren't lacking in necessities or spirit. The greatest oddity, though, was in the few prosthetics that could be found in town. They were miners, all three of them, and they wore their arms (and one leg) as if they'd had them their whole lives. But those models weren't from any of the major manufacturers of the last fifty years, and they were kept in good repair. One such man sat under the shade of one of the buildings, carving something out of bone. His eye was white and sightless, with a jagged scar disfiguring the right side of his face, down to his jaw. On the same side, he had a prosthetic arm that was only apparent as such because of the thin white line of light that glowed along the length of the simulated ulna. That and the fact that it lacked hair, when the man was burly enough that he had plenty of excess hair everywhere else. The knife in his hand creaked along the white surface of the object he was carving, which was early enough in its creation that its identity couldn't be determined. The craftsman wore a leather apron over his clothes, but nothing over his bald head. He didn't seem to register anyone who walked by. But this was the village where the communication had sent the mysterious person who had volunteered for the job. The rumor was that these people knew the location of the recluse. Evidence of his work seemed to litter the village, and yet the executives who had come searching had been rebuffed. Maybe you will have more luck? The long trek up here would result in a long, fruitless walk back, if you can't convince someone to trust you with the location. tags;; Rynth Lumaban DM notes;; none
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Cabanilla
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Post by Rynth Lumaban on Apr 3, 2017 16:37:03 GMT
Excitement filled Rynth the moment she took the mission. Before the camps were enacted, Nova Terra was where her dream job existed! Although they don't seem to have any open positions for a magi like herself. The next best thing was taking up any jobs that they had offered. When it came to engineering she was fond of all types of robotics and cybernetics. Most that study within the field she worked in always had to understand the basics of prosthetics. While such limbs could never achieve super human feets and were generally lacking in response time to the superior engineering of cybernetics, what it offered was the foundation of what it was to be working within her industry. Within her shop back at Dagos she found it rather easy to care for those with prosthetic limbs. It was also by far the less wallet draining of the mechanical limbs department.
Arriving this... town, if one could call it that with societal standards today. Rynth took care to examine everything she encountered. Unlike Dagos or Camlorn which had some aspects of the daily appliances she had come to know and be used to, this town relied on a rather outdated methods to stay afloat. However the engineering genius could easily be seen within the prosthetics of those that were walking around. Upon spotting several individuals with these replacement limbs showed her just how capable the man she was seeking is in his field. Most prosthetics have a lagging jerky movement to them, but the response of these lessened over time. What she saw in front of her was not capable by most engineers including herself. Each of their replacement limbs moved as fluidly as any other limb within their body. Almost as if it had been attached to them since birth.
Spotting a lone man with sitting with a knife as he carved away at something with the use of his prosthetic arm, Rynth decided that he would had been the best subject to confront. Walking up to him in her human guise to clear her throat in an attempt to gain his attention. "Uh excuse me sir, but would you mind pointing me in the direction of the man who works on your prosthetics?" If she were gonna gain the subjects location she would do so without beating around the bush.
@fox
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Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2017 13:31:12 GMT
His knife paused in mid-stroke as he heard the voice of a stranger. The older man looked up, evaluating the person with little to no interest. She was definitely a city slicker, and equally clearly not in need of a new limb. He lifted one grizzled eyebrow at her, as if trying to decide what to say, but he didn't seem to come to any conclusions other than a grunt. He looked back down at his task, continuing to whittle small pieces of bone away. Tiny slivers littered the ground around his feet, enough that it was clear that this wasn't the first thing he'd made that day. A few small carvings sat on the table to his left, mostly artistic renderings of animals that could be found in the mountains. "We don't get many strangers in these parts," he commented, his voice slow and rambling. "If you're in need of a prosthetic, I'm sure there are plenty in whatever city you crawled out of."He paused in his speaking, blowing some shards of bone from the object in his hand. Continuing his carving, he didn't seem inclined to hurry about the interaction. In a place as remote as this one, there was rarely much need for hurrying, especially for a man whose working days were coming to a close. He looked back up at her, as if trying to decide whether it was worth his time to add any insults. An older woman walked out the door, her arms filled with a large jug of sunflowers. Her gray hair was long and wavy, falling somewhere past her waist. She kicked the door closed behind her before she noticed the stranger, taking in the strange clothes. This stranger was clearly an outsider, but the woman knew that her husband wasn't one who could be trusted with being kind to strangers. She slowly lowered the jug to the ground, straightening out the yellow flowers. "Hello, dear," she said, straightening up. "What are you doing so far out in the mountains? Not that we don't appreciate guests... well, some of us anyway."tags;; Rynth Lumaban DM notes;; none
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