Had it proved possible, there would have been a small, chugging, diesel-powered mechanical device with a drill bit on the bottom boring its way through the stone floor of the courtyard. Mercifully, it hadn't worked, and the device is now making an ungodly engine-revving noise while drilling into the frozen ground just outside the door, instead.
But it's still serving its purpose, whatever that purpose might be, and the dwarf standing beside it looks pleased. The air around him smells strongly of gasoline and exhaust.
III. Questing
Nobody bats an eye at a dwarf carrying a mace and a shield, though the naked shard in his palm might merit a second glance, and the mace crackles periodically with electricity as if augmented with a rune.
The fact that he doesn't think to use the shield in any way as he braces himself against the oncoming despair demon might give an onlooker cause to write him off as not long for this world, until the thing wheels suddenly away again with a rending screech, licked with flames that can't have come from any weapon the dwarf has on him. Janzik raises a closed fist as if to send a swift, firm up your ass message, and the ground beneath the demon erupts with self-propelled magma, forming itself into curling ropes and lashing out to snare the creature in searing tendrils. The demon screeches, smokes, and falls silent.
"The hell was that thing? I almost had to chase it halfway back to the fuckin' city. You put a saddle on one of those and you've got yourself high-speed cross-country transportation. Where's your patent office? Nobody steal that idea."
Janzik Joltcable | Warcraft OC | Rifter
"--c'moooon, fuckin' piece of--there we go."
Had it proved possible, there would have been a small, chugging, diesel-powered mechanical device with a drill bit on the bottom boring its way through the stone floor of the courtyard. Mercifully, it hadn't worked, and the device is now making an ungodly engine-revving noise while drilling into the frozen ground just outside the door, instead.
But it's still serving its purpose, whatever that purpose might be, and the dwarf standing beside it looks pleased. The air around him smells strongly of gasoline and exhaust.
III. Questing
Nobody bats an eye at a dwarf carrying a mace and a shield, though the naked shard in his palm might merit a second glance, and the mace crackles periodically with electricity as if augmented with a rune.
The fact that he doesn't think to use the shield in any way as he braces himself against the oncoming despair demon might give an onlooker cause to write him off as not long for this world, until the thing wheels suddenly away again with a rending screech, licked with flames that can't have come from any weapon the dwarf has on him. Janzik raises a closed fist as if to send a swift, firm up your ass message, and the ground beneath the demon erupts with self-propelled magma, forming itself into curling ropes and lashing out to snare the creature in searing tendrils. The demon screeches, smokes, and falls silent.
"The hell was that thing? I almost had to chase it halfway back to the fuckin' city. You put a saddle on one of those and you've got yourself high-speed cross-country transportation. Where's your patent office? Nobody steal that idea."