Bay 12 Games Forum

"I did debate using some sort of propeller, but....at the moment, I can't figure out how to make it work efficiently. As it is, I don't need a long enough road for that; Wybernia has plenty of those for wyvern flights and airships. What I need is some expensive parts for the engine to get it to fly, which....is why I need your help."

As the group follows Marta into the building, the interior looks to have been hollowed out, the floor dusted with hay, bolts and odds-and-ends, with boxes of tools and paper schematics strewn about. Amidst the countless workbenches, bottles of Goddesses-know-what and oilcloths, however, is something odd.

To the Generians of the party, it looks like nothing anyone has ever built, drawn or seen in the land, not even among the Revivians.

To the Revivians, however, it resembles a plane out of some old-timey film. Some weird mix between the Wright Flyer and planes out of the First World War. A coat of dusty blue paint covers the entire frame, which seems to be made out of a mix of wood, metal and canvas. The plane's name is painted across the side in bold, black letters. Where the engine might be on a plane from Earth, an odd box-shaped contraption full of gears, glowing crystals and leather straps can be seen. The entire thing is propped up on several small rails of wood and iron, looking crudely but strongly put together.

"Um....this is what I had to take the fence out for. This is my project. I call her the Vainglory."

"N-no! I-I couldn't make my guests do my housework for me....I-I wouldn't be able to pay you anyway, e-even if I were...."

Marta awkwardly rubs the back of her head.
"My uncles were adventurers, back in the day. They made a lot of money on quests, you see. When my folks kicked me out, they.....gave me this place, before they moved out to Penultia for the beaches."

After the party has been suitably plied with fast food, the party is led by Marta (who has spent the last half hour or so silently wondering what she got herself into) to her home, where she'd offered to put the party up. It does take about another twenty minutes from the guildhall down the busy streets of the city.

Where they end up though, is....surprising, for someone who says they need the money.

"Um....this is....where I live."

It looks, by all appearances, to be a mansion. A crumbling, somewhat poorly-maintained mansion, but a mansion nonetheless. It looks to have seen better days; the mansion's outer paint is chipped off in places, compared to the bright and shining facades of the houses around it, and there seems to have been a significant part of the outer fence collapsed deliberately, but a mansion it is.

RES it is.

"An elf? Aw. Ain't got time for elves. Them's too....elfy. Long as she ain't one of them Pwyll Arsenal fans....screw 'em."
The drunk man doesn't quite seem....all there.
"You sure yer not with 'em Gautland FC bastards? Ye all look like 'em. Red and gold..."

The drunken man pauses, before getting way, way too close to Lucy.
"Wait. Red and gold.....yer one of them Ishim City fans, ain't you?!"