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<blockquote data-quote="Feir Fireb" data-source="post: 4804046" data-attributes="member: 14074"><p><strong>Excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": Ticking Clocks</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>IN CHOOSING BETWEEN</strong> our spare and cramped quarters and the wonders of the gardens I lost no time, but I at least took enough time in returning to Li Shotay to partake more deeply of the sights, sounds and smells. I casually and reflexively scanned the construction for weaknesses and venues of escape, but only halfheartedly. Even had I not been stripped of all of my hard-earned tools and Mullod's amulet, even without Slavemaster Chang's stern warnings, the carefully constructed walls and gates thick with guards were enough to urge caution and patience.</p><p></p><p>Li Shotay welcomed me warmly but lost no time in putting me to work. Although the gaps in my understanding of those ingenious devices quickly became evident, Master Li was a great believer in learning by doing and was far too busy for a more methodical course of instruction. But I smiled quietly to myself the instant I first grasped one of the picks used to gently pry open the compartments of the clockwork animals. Putting on a new belt of tools, I immediately felt less naked and helpless, as if I had already taken the first step towards our escape. There were no proper locksmith's tools to be sure, but the contents of that pouch were varied and well made. I was sure I could make them do what I needed when the time came.</p><p></p><p>Master Li was a hard taskmaster but never unnecessarily harsh or cruel. He simply demanded perfection because that is what the Imperial Family demanded, and on a timescale that we two could not control. They expected their machines to simply and reliably work. As the slaves who maintained the machines, we had to be as reliable in our work as the Imperial Family expected the machines to be. This is, of course, an absurdity to anyone who knows the ways of moving parts that rust and rot and fail. But the whole of the Empire would appear to have been carefully crafted to shield its sovereign from inconvenient realities.</p><p></p><p>[Here there are several haphazardly drawn and labelled diagrams of mechanical beasts and music boxes, first drafts. Some contain insets of finer detail.]</p><p></p><p><strong>SEVERAL EXHAUSTING HOURS</strong> of springs, gears and toothed drums passed before the idea of lying on a wooden pallet became more appealing than drinking in the beauty of the gardens and all that I was learning, and several more hours passed before Li Shotay allowed me to do so. I returned to find Atrix already there. My first reaction was to laugh. His hair had been cut and lacquered, his face caked in eyeshadow and rouge, and his body draped in flowing, colorful ribbons. Decorated to a Xaimani ideal of a slave's beauty, he looked to me less the popinjay of Rim Square and more a streetwalker or a clown. His face was ashen beneath the makeup.</p><p></p><p>"Darren", he said, "we have to get out."</p><p></p><p>I stifled my guffaw at the sound of his voice, as grim and determined as I've ever heard him. It was then that he first told me of his cousin Kay's danger of which I have previously written. He didn't even bother glossing over the fact that he had been sent to entertain a gaggle of princes and nobles with his stories until he'd told me that he'd learned the nature of the Mines of Graiqal and the <em>siseo laou</em>. I saw desperate resolve in his eyes. Every day that we remained in the Palace might be our last chance to rescue Kay. But in that moment we abandoned our cautions and ambitions and agreed to seize the first opportunity for escape that presented itself. We would already lose a precious day to the journey to Graiqal itself.</p><p></p><p>Exhausted, we collapsed onto our pallets, gazing at the ceiling and debating which modes of escape might show some promise based on our scant observations from our first day in the Palace. It wasn't until we were drifting off to sleep that Atrix began to dazedly recount his day's labors, gingerly rubbing the spot where Shect had run him through.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Feir Fireb, post: 4804046, member: 14074"] [b]Excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": Ticking Clocks[/b] [B]IN CHOOSING BETWEEN[/B] our spare and cramped quarters and the wonders of the gardens I lost no time, but I at least took enough time in returning to Li Shotay to partake more deeply of the sights, sounds and smells. I casually and reflexively scanned the construction for weaknesses and venues of escape, but only halfheartedly. Even had I not been stripped of all of my hard-earned tools and Mullod's amulet, even without Slavemaster Chang's stern warnings, the carefully constructed walls and gates thick with guards were enough to urge caution and patience. Li Shotay welcomed me warmly but lost no time in putting me to work. Although the gaps in my understanding of those ingenious devices quickly became evident, Master Li was a great believer in learning by doing and was far too busy for a more methodical course of instruction. But I smiled quietly to myself the instant I first grasped one of the picks used to gently pry open the compartments of the clockwork animals. Putting on a new belt of tools, I immediately felt less naked and helpless, as if I had already taken the first step towards our escape. There were no proper locksmith's tools to be sure, but the contents of that pouch were varied and well made. I was sure I could make them do what I needed when the time came. Master Li was a hard taskmaster but never unnecessarily harsh or cruel. He simply demanded perfection because that is what the Imperial Family demanded, and on a timescale that we two could not control. They expected their machines to simply and reliably work. As the slaves who maintained the machines, we had to be as reliable in our work as the Imperial Family expected the machines to be. This is, of course, an absurdity to anyone who knows the ways of moving parts that rust and rot and fail. But the whole of the Empire would appear to have been carefully crafted to shield its sovereign from inconvenient realities. [Here there are several haphazardly drawn and labelled diagrams of mechanical beasts and music boxes, first drafts. Some contain insets of finer detail.] [B]SEVERAL EXHAUSTING HOURS[/B] of springs, gears and toothed drums passed before the idea of lying on a wooden pallet became more appealing than drinking in the beauty of the gardens and all that I was learning, and several more hours passed before Li Shotay allowed me to do so. I returned to find Atrix already there. My first reaction was to laugh. His hair had been cut and lacquered, his face caked in eyeshadow and rouge, and his body draped in flowing, colorful ribbons. Decorated to a Xaimani ideal of a slave's beauty, he looked to me less the popinjay of Rim Square and more a streetwalker or a clown. His face was ashen beneath the makeup. "Darren", he said, "we have to get out." I stifled my guffaw at the sound of his voice, as grim and determined as I've ever heard him. It was then that he first told me of his cousin Kay's danger of which I have previously written. He didn't even bother glossing over the fact that he had been sent to entertain a gaggle of princes and nobles with his stories until he'd told me that he'd learned the nature of the Mines of Graiqal and the [I]siseo laou[/I]. I saw desperate resolve in his eyes. Every day that we remained in the Palace might be our last chance to rescue Kay. But in that moment we abandoned our cautions and ambitions and agreed to seize the first opportunity for escape that presented itself. We would already lose a precious day to the journey to Graiqal itself. Exhausted, we collapsed onto our pallets, gazing at the ceiling and debating which modes of escape might show some promise based on our scant observations from our first day in the Palace. It wasn't until we were drifting off to sleep that Atrix began to dazedly recount his day's labors, gingerly rubbing the spot where Shect had run him through. [/QUOTE]
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