An Engineer's Oath

Taking a break from Shadows Within here, but I'm not finished with it yet... just need to think a bit. Well, that, and I wanted to give a bit of backstory for other characters I'll be putting in.

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The cart trundled along slowly, bouncing with the various dips and pits in the earthen road. Eleam Greygear sighed heavily in her mail armor, bored to her wit's end, and rested her chin in her hands. "How much longer 'till we get there, Claris?" the Gnome asked over her shoulder.
"Not much longer, Eleam," the female Dwarf called back, watching the road steadily. "Wha's wrong, lass? I thought ye said ye liked travelin'?"
"I don't mind traveling," the Gnome said with a pout, "but this is just tedium."
The Paladin chuckled heartily at her friend. "Don' worry, Eleam. When we get to Booty Bay, ye'll be singin' a different tune."

The Gnome shook her head, the short, faded blue hair flapping gently in the breeze, and wrinkled her nose. If there was one thing she would admit she didn't like about the Wetlands, it was the smell. That constant funk of dying vegetation and stagnant water from the marshes was more than the Warrior cared to put up with.
Pulling her backpack around, she fished out an old, battered book without really looking, and opened it up. A nostalgic smile crept onto her lips as she read over her old Engineering journals, reminiscing about the numerous near-death experiences that she had written about whenever her burns healed.
Not that the adrenaline rushes hadn't been fun; quite the contrary, Eleam loved the threat of serious bodily injury while performing routine work. The only problem was that she already had more than enough to deal with on the battlefield, and she was frankly tired of the Humans and Elves giving her funny looks whenever she needed to pay for the repairs in their buildings. And she always paid; it showed integrity.

So, the Gnome reluctantly passed her dynamite and spanners off to a friend of hers for safe keeping, and took up the smith's hammer instead. Blacksmithing wasn't without its own perils, but after having an entire crate of mortar shells go haywire when you're standing right next to them, remembering not to stick her hand in molten metal didn't seem very daunting.
However, she did take the trade seriously. Whenever she pulled that hammer from her pack, it gave her a calm, unwavering focus that usually unnerved the diminutive Warrior in retrospect. Greygear really didn't know why that happened, but she could hardly argue at the pride she took in the end results.

Eleam chuckled aloud. "Oh man... hey Claris," she said with a smile, "You remember the time when I learned to make EZ-Thro Dynamite?"
The Paladin shook her head, also stifling laughter. "Aye, friend, I remember tha'. By the time Beldan an' I got the water teh put ye out, it'd roasted yer wee pigtails right off."
"I never liked 'em, anyways," the Gnome joked.
"Oh, you say tha' now, lass, but ye were jus' wailin' as loud as yer lungs could let ye," the Dwarf responded, rubbing her left ear gingerly. "An' I still don' think that was necessary, Eleam. Ye nearly blew me eardrums out."
The Warrior shrunk back a bit, remembering that particular detail. "Yeah... I'm still sorry about that, you know."
"I know, lass," Claris said over her shoulder. "I've lived through avalanches, demons, gun squadrons, an' two wars. Te say the least, you're hardly the worst thing I've put up with, Greygear."

The Goblin only gave half a glance as the horse-drawn cart boarded, easily seeing the firey-haired Dwarf at the reins.
"Back again, Sparkhammer?" the green creature asked easily.
"Aye, another supply run," the Paladin replied.
The boat handler waved them up the ramp. "Well, you're as clear as aways."
Claris nodded in thanks and gently urged the horse forward.

In retrospect, her friend was right; Booty Bay was more lively than the Gnome had hoped for. Disembarking from the day-and-a-half long boat ride, the sudden noise of a thriving encampment was a welcome thing for the Warrior.
"I think I'll take a look around, Claris," Eleam told the Paladin in her high-pitched voice. "Get my bearings, you know?"
"A'righ, but don' forget ta meet meh at teh inn by tomorrow mornin', lass," the Dwarf reminded her, taking the reins.
"Don't worry, Claris, I'll make a note."

And surely enough, the Gnome did, as soon as she found her inkwell and pen, scribbling the reminder on a scrap of parchment, and discreetly tucking it under her bra strap. Checking her bags and making sure her wallet was doubly secured, the Gnome began to wander.
Claris had warned her not to start any fights in a Goblin city, and the diminutive Warrior trusted that statement whole-heartedly after seeing a few Bruisers lumbering around the town. Even though her fighting instincts flared up at the sight of a Horde member in the city limits, Eleam managed to choke back the urge to whip her hammer free of her belt each time, if only by the barest of margins.
Aimlessly searching, the Gnome strolled down to a small ramp at the water's edge, obviously built for the people who managed to tumble from the walkways. Greygear wasn't really watching her footing, however, and one of her armored feet clipped something, sending the unwary Gnome falling face-first towards the wood. Her arms shot out reflexively; not as if to absorb the fall, but open-palmed and steady.

Her gloved hands slammed into the planks, and Eleam strained against her momentum, making the fall into an illusion of a spur-of-the-moment push-up. With a half-grunt, half-growl of exertion, the Warrior threw her entire mail-clad weight to a stand and turned to see the damage she'd caused.
The mysterious "thingy" she had tripped on was actually a Goblin, who now hung to a post with a free hand, the other holding an Engineering bag just inches above the water.
"Oh, shit!" the Gnome muttered, rushing over and grabbing the green humanoid's wrist as his weaker left hand slipped free. Eleam saw him tense up, but it was a brief action, as he was quickly pulled backwards to the safety of the half-empty thoroughfare.

"Light in heaven, I'm terribly sorry about that," the Warrior sputtered.
The Goblin gave her a nervous smirk. "Nah, you're cool. I'm just glad my equipment didn't get wet," he said, raising up the bag slightly.
"Still, I really didn't mean to," Eleam said, thumbing at her ear-cuffs absent-mindedly.
"I told ya, it's nothing to worry about, lady," the green creature shot back easily, hitching the bag to his belt. He was dressed in a loose apron and rather simple clothes, all browns and greys, but had a hefty backpack on.

"What all you got in there?" Eleam asked, angling her head at the satchel.
"This?" he asked. "Not much, just a few essentials. Oil, my spanner, blasting powder... y'know, office supplies," he said with a grin.
The Gnome chuckled. "Actually, I know full well what you mean. I've had my share of fun with explosives."
"Really?" The Goblin's ears perked up slightly, interested. "I don't mean to be rude, but you don't look much like an Engineer."
"Well, I'm a Blacksmith now," the Warrior admitted, "but that doesnt mean I don't remember my old tricks."

The Goblin raised an eyebrow. "Knowledge is power," he said with a smirk.
"And power lets you blow shit up," Eleam returned, piecing the old demolitionist phrase together.
"Ah, but how?" came the reply, the Goblin's smile widening.
"How else?" the Gnome shot back, grinning.
"With gusto!" they both said, now openly laughing, and the green creature held out a gloved hand.
"Rafe Ametanr," he said.
"Eleam Greygear," she replied, grasping his hand and shaking firmly. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

The two sat at a short table in the corner of the inn, Eleam sipping on a glass of Melon Juice while Rafe showed her a few schematics he had penned down. With the first set of pages, the Warrior expected to find various devices of explosive proportions as she turned them around to face her.
She looked at the first sheet- and had to set her mug down, complete with an astonished double-take. Instead of bombs, the young Goblin was working on mechanical contraptions that closely resembled Gnomish designs.
"Woah," the diminutive woman breathed, now looking intently at the designs. It was a somewhat humanoid frame, short and stocky, about as high as either of them. It was equipped with, of all things, a hand spade, and had a lage backpack-like storage compartment. The chest cavity was used to house the tel-tale Phlogiston Boiler and most of the main rotaries and servos, and the left arm was a... tube?

Eleam studied the sketches for a few moments, pouring over the information. "This is... well, it's different," she finally admitted. "What's with the arms?"
"Rights' for digging, left's for planting," Rafe explained simply.
The Gnome looked across the table in amazement. "Planting? You're making an Agri-Bot?"
The green humanoid smiled, a light and friendly gesture. "Yep."
"Any particular reason?" she asked, her high voice becoming quizzical, and (at least to Rafe's ears) irresistibly... cute.

The goblin drew n a breath an decided to answer honestly. "Well, I was hoping I could get this working well enough to offset the deforestation the Goblin Princes love so much," he admitted. "Lumber's a necessity, sure, but at the rate Booty Bay and Ratchet go through whole acres of fresh trees, there won't be a whole lot of forest left in a few years."
"I really don't want to see this world go out like that," Rafe continued. "Besides, if they run out of wood, they don't make any more money from it, either. It's pretty odd for Goblins not to consider the financial ramifications of something that big down the line."
Eleam sat, listening intently and watching the Goblins' brown eyes closely the whole time. "Damn," she muttered, "never thought I'd meet a Goblin with a moral compass."
Rafe smiled openly at the comment. "Surprise, sister," he joked.

"You got any work done on this yet?" the Warrior asked, holding up the parchment, her blue eyes sparkling in anticipation.
The humanoid glanced around sheepishly. "Eh... not much. I'm actually having trouble with... well, most of it, really."
Eleam downed her half-full mug in one swig and stood up. "Allright, lemme see it, then."
Rafe stared at her, confused. "Wait, you're gonna help?"
The Gnome made a face that threatened to give the Engineer diabetes from sheer cuteness. "Of course, silly! I wouldn't want to pass on this for the world!"

Just outside the city limits, a hole had been blasted in a nearby hill, the gaping maw covered my fake mosses that the Goblin pointed out and moved aside. The cave itself was nestled into a stone womb, it seemed, with a curved ceiling that probably went up to twenty or more feet. Rafe twisted a few sconces, activating magical lights in the cave, and illuminating the framework of the contraption.
It was bulky, sure, and the hoses for the boilers and pistons were absent, but there was promise in the construct. As Rafe handed her a spare spanner and opened up a chest that was chock-full of gizmos, gears, and geegaws, the gnome remembered a few of the things she loved about Engineering.

Eleam had removed her armor, working along side the Goblin in a powder blue linen shirt, now stained with oil, and a simple pair of pants. She reached up to scratch at her shoulder, and a scrap pf paper moved beneath the cloth.
"Aw, damnit, I almost forgot!" she blurted, smacking a hand to her forehead.
"Eh? Forgot what?" the Goblin asked, wiping his face with a thick rag.
"I have get back to the inn to see Claris!"
Rafe cocked his head. "Who?"
"The Dwarf I came here with," Eleam stated, "she's a friend of mine."
"Well, if ya need to go," the Engineer said warmly, "then you need to go. You know where to find me."
Trusting her equipment to the Goblin, Eleam nodded and hurried back to Booty Bay.

The Warrior hurried into the inn, and was quickly greeted by a very cramped common room. There were Alliance and Horde everywhere, sitting around and talking amongst themselves, some hurriedly, some worriedly.
"Eleam!" Claris shouted, and the Gnome barely saw her friend's firey red braids waving about.
"Claris, what's going on?" she asked as soon as she got near the table.
The Paladin shook her head. "I don' know, lass. Sometin' abou' the weather or some such nonsense, but it's keepin the ships from leavin' the docks," she informed the Gnome. "I'm no exac'ly sure if the'hv goot any free rooms, friend."
"Oh, I'll be fine," the Warror told her, and recounted the events of the day.

"Izzat so?" the Dwarf asked, plainly impressed. "Looks like yeh've found a partner, I'd say."
"Yeah. I'm going back there to give him a hand," Eleam told her, "and I know he's got a few sleeping bags in there. I saw 'em."
"Well, be careful out there, a'ight? An don't forget to check the boats daily, lass."
The Gnome rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Allright, Mom," she teased as she stood up.
Claris chuckled and clapped her friend on the shoulder. "Be safe ou' there, Eleam."

Rafe growled in frustration, setting his spanner on the table and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Damnit all," he muttered, his temper trying to flare up after numerous failed attempts to affix the left leg-piston to the upper thigh actuators.
Something rustled in the moss outside, and the Goblin reflexively snatched the rifle from its mount on the wall, holding it loosely. A three-and-a-half foot figure sauntered in, and the green creature sighed.
"Glad you're back, Eleam," he said, replacing the gun, "'cause this thing's driving me crazy."
"What's up?" she asked in her high, cute voice.

The Goblin swallowed hard. "Left leg piston's coming up two inches short on the actuator bracket," he said, pointing at the area.
The Warrior studied it for a moment, then grabbed a flask of oil. Getting a rag, she soaked the corner and wiped the entirety of the prortuding metal down and waited. Then, without much effort, she grabbed it by the bracet and pulled, slowly getting it level with the actuator.
"No prob," she said, wiping he forehead on the back of her hand. "Now we just need..." she trailed off with her eyes closed, trying to mentaly review the plans.
"The actuator chains and low-end gears, right?" Rafe asked with a glance at the spare parts chest.
"Yeah, that's it," she said with a snap of her fingers, barely failing to stifle a yawn.

"You too, eh?" the Goblin asked, already pulling out the sleeping bags. "We'll get to that in the morning, I guess."
The Gnome nodded tiredly, unrolling the cloth-and-leather bag near her pile of armor and sweeping a few loose rocks away. "Did you manage to get anything for the boiler yet?" she asked, smoothing the bag onto the stone and openng it.
"I've got the parts for it," he informed her as he twisted the mage-lights off one by one, "but we're gonna hafta assemble the damn thing."
"Great," she groaned, settling in to the surprisingly comfortable cloth. It felt like a mix of silk and Magewave.
"Aw, don't worry," Rafe shot back with a verbal smirk as she heard him shuffle into his own sleeping bag. "If there's one thing I know how to put together, it's one of those. Granted, it's a lot easier with two people."
The woman grunted in response, but was too tired to formulate any words. Taking this as a hint, Rafe went silent.

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This'll get naughty in a bit, but not juuuust yet. Anyways, lemme know what y'all think.