Isyra: The Last Outpost

The Mechanic
Maria scrunched up her nose when Rodney came tumbling into the foyer, all dark, jagged lines and filth. He stank of synthetic oil and Troll afterbirth. The mechanic was brilliant in all meanings of the word, but cleanliness wasn't exactly one of his best attributes.

He wobbled a little too close to her immaculately maintained receptionists desk, threatening to spill his chaos into her little world of order.

"Rodney,"

She began while she checked his arrival time into the elaborate ledger that her employer insisted she keep. Within its hundreds of pages of tiny print more than six thousand meetings, conferences and power lunches were listed in order of importance for the next eight months. This man was consistently number one, every day without fail.

He tried to look charming as he nodded his wide brimmed hat at her, smiling with broken teeth and chapped lips.

"Ma'am. Crazy weather we've been having."

"Mmhhmm."

She was lost in the ledger while he leaned on a pile of paperwork, hopelessly smearing it. Maria only managed to notice after he failed to materialize in the ledger.

"You're not-.."

Her eyes darted from his grubby hands to his face. If looks could kill.

"..-scheduled for.. a.. meeting today."

"I know."

A grimey wrench slowly came out of his jacket pocket. Maria didn't know how to react until her world was filled with metal and pain.

Sain's Horrible Deal
The lair was humid and filthy, the ancient tiled floor stained with decades of Troll afterbirth and rotting vegetation. It was hardly a location he ever expected that would wind up holding all of the riches his nation had to offer. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

He adjusted the wick on his lantern and let the light play over the closest collection of steel ingots and Bonsai trees. It hurt to look at, but a masochist by nature he couldn't help but wish he had thought out his end of the bargain a little bit better.

There was screaming deeper in the lair, he followed the noise for quite sometime until he came upon the primary birthing chamber. Rows of elaborate belching machines lit by torchlight spewed out tiny bundles of hideous joy. Their ugly little faces twisted in agony, the Trollings screamed at their indignation. The Mechanic and his assistants were there, cooing over them as the automated midwives carried them off to the outrigging chamber.

"Shouldn't you have the entrance guarded?"

Sain called over the racket of Trolling fear and Bonsai trees being run through what he had come to call "the big wood chipper." The Mechanic, startled by his partner dropped a screaming bundle to the floor.

It's delicate egg head cracked open and leaked bits of brain. The Trolling immediately stropped crying, finding the whole process intensely interesting. The Mechanic, thinking nothing of the accident strode over. An automated midwife killed the curious creature with fire before throwing the corpse into "the big wood chipper" with another Bonsai.

"Shouldn't you be out hunting for more off my shopping list?"

The Mechanic replied, hands in his pockets. The filthy, blood stained wrench was a great comfort. Sain's head would crack open just as easily if push came to shove.

"Touché. I have our visitors working on it. They make a ruckus about the whole thing, especially the pissant little effeminate one. But they'll do as they're told so long as I'm running the show."

One of the machines guttered and died. Assistants furiously tried to restart the engine as digitized wailing echoed within its interior. Sain, curious looked over The Mechanic's shoulder, hoping to catch a hint as to just what was going on in this horrible place.

Automated midwives assigned to the stalled machine were lost without direction. Their heads remained stationary while listless eyes grew bored and wandered. One keeled over and died. The others, grateful for a task proceeded to disassemble her biological components with hissing pneumatic drills. While the mechanical shell was dragged off she was added to five separate and working contraptions. They immediately began spewing out fatter Trollings.

The Mechanic didn't look phased.

"My shopping list. Now. Or else you'll have to replace more than one midwife. They're harder to come by than your little trees."

Sain narrowed his eyes, while he prepared a devastating quip before he remember just who he was talking to. He ended up sulking back from whence he came, trying to pick his least favorite member of his harem. Where was he supposed to find ten tons of live deer?