[Iron Kingdoms] By the Twitching of my Thumbs ...

OOC:
Dramatis Personae:
Ennys Faryse: Elderly male Ryn stewart, brought to Ceryl by Evangaline
Sergei Dimitrivitch Primatoff: Male Kossite bone grinder and aquaintance/occasional business partner of the house
Wolfe Tone: Male gobber gun mage
Aleksei Verkhuslava Pavlov Trakaitin: Half Thurian/Khadoran male arcane mechanik
Evangaline di la Travasse: Female Ryn warrior


Donard 4th, Tempen 605 A.R.
Ceryl
House at 24 Cauldron Street

"But this is the fourth time already this month!" Ennys Faryse exclaimed heatedly as he glared at the group which had gathered around the kitchen table. The older Ryn's bushy white eyebrows twitched violently with obvious anger, making it look as if they had taken on a life of their own. "I mean, it's not as if there isn't already a perfectly good workshop downstairs! But no," he continued, barely taking the time to draw another breath, "you have to bring everything in here and dump it in MY kitchen!" He pointed at the enormous corpse of the gorax which lay motionless on the table, blackish-red blood dripping on the recently-cleaned and polished wooden floor.
"Yes, but we needed a place to put ‘em," explained Sergei shrugging his shoulders, "and every other surface was covered with Aleksei's tinkerings. There vas no other room."
The Rynish steward's glare swung around, impaling the Kossite bone grinder where he stood. "And once again I wonder, dear sir, is this my responsibility, hmm? Every day you bring in something new to disembowel, and I thought they smelled bad on the outside!"
Sergei only shrugged his shoulders and looked to the rest of the group to help him.

The past few months have not been easy for the inhabitants of Cauldron Street. The last good paying job you can remember was the “rescue” of the priest. As well as the Prelate’s office had paid, it had not been an easy job, and the priest had turned out to be not as devout as one might have assumed.
The money had quickly run out and everyone had been forced to take side jobs for the watch or the military. It was during one of these jobs that you met Sergei Dimitrivitch Primatoff, a Kossite bone grinder who had been trapped on this side of the border by the recent fighting. You distrusted him at first, but he soon proved his worth. This respect has lately been growing towards friendship.
Sergei informed you that good money could be made from extracting certain parts of wild creatures for use in magical and alchemical substances. None of you had been particularly excited about hunting down creatures for their innards, but times were rough and bills had to be paid. Even though the wizards of Ceryl have been paying well, you hope that something a bit less messy comes your way work-wise before too much longer.

Now you find yourself standing around the kitchen of the house that Evangaline had rented when she first moved here, trying to deal with her very distraught steward.

"Tinkerings?! What's that supposed to mean?" Aleksei shoots Sergei a dirty look before restraining himself and continuing in a calmer voice, "Nevermind, I'll clear off a table downstairs. Besides, I've got an idea I'll need your help with."

Aleksei moves toward the stairs to start clearing a table in the far corner of the workshop. Sighing mentally; I really need to get a grip, blowing up over nothing like that. Hm, I'll have to put the main 'works under the table I think... Arms up around like this... How to attach the tools though... Aleksei begins formulating the plans for his next big idea as he clears the table.

Mr. Faryse looks up at the Thurian man's comment, "Well, thank you sir. At least one person in this house is interested in finding a solution to the problem. After all, you leave me no room to cook with this monstrosity here."

"Now now, Mr. Faryse. While I can understand your anger, these are our guest and deserve to be treated as such." Evangaline di la Travasse took a careful step back from the table where a rivulet of blood came ever closer to her shoe. "I have no more desire for this uncleanliness than you do, sir, but as you can see, our young mechanik is making room as we speak." Her eyes hold a twinkle of merriment at her steward's discomfort, but she has so far managed to keep the laughter from reaching her tongue.

Reaching up to the back of her head, she releases her hair from the tight ponytail with the pull of a ribbon, allowing her voluminous locks to flow freely. "I do so need a bath, Mr. Faryse. Perhaps you can prepare one while we deal with this uncleanliness? Thank you so very much, my dear man."

Eva found long ago that the best way to deal with Faryse's outbursts was to treat him gently and give him something else to do. He had proven to be a fine steward; one she was not willing to lose. Faryse had traveled with Eva from her home in the cultured Llaelese capital city of Merywyn, and she had grown to appreciate his blustering manner and his obvious care for her well-being. He felt almost like a grandfather at this point, and his scolding could bring the color to her cheeks like none other than her father could.

Turning to face her companions, Eva lets out a sigh. "While I confess, Sergei, that this income gained from the corpses is welcome, I can't help but wish we could find some work a little less... distasteful." She speaks the word cautiously, worried about insulting the man's chosen profession.

The Ryn steward sighed loudly and absent-mindedly picked a few pieces of imaginary lint off of the apron he had donned to clean up the mess in his kitchen. "Of course, lady, I apologize for my outbursts. I will put a kettle on momentarily and will prepare you a path in your chambers." With that he crisply turned and purposefully strode over to a large, free-standing cupboard you had acquired a few months ago from a second-hand furniture merchant. Opening the oak-paneled door, he pulled out a large, copper kettle and headed for the back door. "I shall go fetch water, if you don't need me for anything else," Faryse muttered, quickly scanning the faces of the assembled group. Not getting any takers, he nodded and turned to walk to the well.

Since relocating to Ceryl, the Ryn had become increasingly frustrated running the household. At first you had hired a full staff, including a cook and a chamber maid, but the maid had become pregnant and the cook had run off to join the Trenchers. Manpower was at a premium these days, and good help was hard to find. Because of this, Faryse had slowly taken over all of the servant responsibilities of the house, something which had not sat particularly well with him. He never openly complained, mind you, but his true feelings could be easily gleaned by the observant student of human behavior.

Most of the houses in the third and fourth circle had indoor plumbling, but here in the second circle, things were still a century or so behind the times. Most of the homes did not reach over four stories and were still gathered around central squares with their public fountains or wells. This particular townhouse, built for the younger son of a merchant during the reign of King Grigor Malfast, was solid enough, but lacked many of the amenities found in the richer sections of town.

Sergei turned to the gorax, examining the body. "Hmm, it looks like a good specimen. I should think we will able to get a good price for his glands and his liver if nothing else. If someone could help me carry him downstairs it would be much appreciated." The Kossite turned to Evangeline, "Well, yes, I'm sure you would prefer other work. But I do what I know, and I know what those sinister alchemists and potion-workers will pay for a healthy specimen like this one. If you would like to find other work, there's no one stopping you!"

He grunted as he began lifting the beast, "So, is anyone gonig to help me here, or do you plan on making me make a vulgar display of the inhuman strength of a Northman?" Finding this funny, the bone grinder chuckled to himself.

Eva listens to the words of her steward carefully, hearing the thoughts between the comments as well. She valued his help, and wanted to keep him satisfied. I need to give him some time off, she thinks. Maybe this evening? I could probably cook something. She thought of what the pantry held, but couldn't come up with a single thing. Maybe not.

Smiling at the Kossite, she sighs dramatically and helps him with the body, grabbing a blanket out of her supplies and wrapping it around the cool body to keep the blood from her clothes.

Aleksei guides the corpse-bearers to the table he cleared, pushing bits and pieces out of the way to clear a path for the gorax's bulk.

"Sergei, I've got an idea for a clockwork dissection table and I need your expertise for the design. This is all theoretical at this point of course, but what I'd like to try involves a few arms with pins, saws, knives, etc. controlled by a clockwork under the table. I think I can put something together that will allow an operator to set the table for 'gorax' or 'farrow' or whatever and it does all the work. Just think, with my idea we could drop a gorax on the table, position it properly, set the table, pull a lever, and go have tea. By the time we finish the interesting bits are neatly collected in a bucket and the remains are ready for disposal!"

Grabbing the other side of Eva's blanket, the Kossite made his way to the mechanik's basement workshop. Even though the corpse must have weighed at least 300 pounds, the tall man barely broke a sweat as he threaded his way around the narrow spiral staircase.

After Aleksei cleared a place on the table, he hefted the gorax up onto it, making sure that all of it was on the table.

Sergei listened to the other man's comments as he pulled a rag out of a belt puch to clean off some blood which had gotten on him. "Hmm," he muttered, his brow furrowed in obvious thought, "I'm not so sure if that would work. Cutting a critter is a bit more than just field surgury, there's quite a bit of skill involved. If you cut the wrong thing, you could foul the whole corpse at best, and shower yourself with acid that would eat through your skull in under five seconds at worst." Sergei chuckled to himself, a slight smile playing across his lips.

He moved around the table, positioning the limbs in a certain way. Studying the table momentarily he turned back to the mechanik. "One thing that would be useful, would be some kind of drain that carried off the blood and viscera while I was working. Also, something to keep specimens cold would also be very useful. You can't imagine how fast one of these guys goes sour on ye."

Aleksei frowns, staring at the dripping gorax.
"Aren't all their gears in the same spot? I mean isn't a gorax's heart always here,", waving at the chest, "the liver here, and soforth?", waving at the belly. "Setting up a drain shouldn't be too hard, I just need somewhere to run the drain to. Keeping the bodies cold, hmm. That shouldn't be too hard, I'll need an 'engine, socket; hmm, what to use on the rune plate..." Aleksei wanders off into the workshop digging for bits and mumbling.