The Royal Artificery Society - IC

[Prehysterical]

Shandara's Home

While Shandara retreats to the kitchen, Bolten looks up in surprise at her owl familiar and the half-orc bodyguard. Sure, he's seen them before, but it still takes some getting used to... especially since he didn't even realize that they were there. He gives a sheepish wave and smiles weakly with a greeting. Bolten internally debates whether or not to admonish the familiar for eyeing his invention with intent, but Shandara returns soon enough with the tea.

After Shandara gives her input, Bolten nods in agreement. "Aye, it would be easier (and cheaper) to coat the lenses in a hydrophobic substance... It would need to be clear, though. We've already had problems with heat management with the SCORP. I'd rather not revisit that with the tick."

Bolten pulls out the honey buns and sets them on the table, suddenly looking self-conscious as he realizes that there is not enough for everyone present. Doh, if only he had remembered! "Given how they have opted to go with the adamantine claws, maintenance will be very light in terms of recoating the eyes with our chosen substance."

[DeTess]

Aiden's Workshop
"Oh, noooo! A tiny bit of metal! My abilities, they're all melting awaaay!" Misha exclaimed in an overly dramatic fashion while striking a pose like a socialite about to faint in shock. She held the pose for a second, then grinned. "Auntie says the metal thing is mostly tradition these days. I notice that the little magic I can do becomes a bit weaker if I'm around a lot of iron, but that's about it."

The young druid then took a moment to admire her new armor. "This is really nice though. Almost feels like a shame to actually use as armor. Like using a tapestry as a towel or something like that."

[WindStruck]

"Yes, ideally the coating would be clear, and it would be more or less permanent. In other words, it shouldn't just rub off..."

Shandara tries to think of something like that as she reaches for a honeybun, stops, removes her teacup from its saucer, and then breaks the bun about in half.

Spoiler: roll

Show

craft: alchemy (1d20+9)[22]

Maybe she had an idea or two. She glances at Xavier briefly, but from her experience he didn't seem to be the type who ever took offered food or drink. Understandably, it was a precaution in case there was something in them.

[Prehysterical]

Shandara's Home

Bolten pours himself a cup of the tea before handing the teapot over to Shandara. He lifts up the honey bun and looks with serious consideration down at the still steaming tea. Ultimately deciding to deny the dunk into such a watery drink, Bolten tears off a piece and tosses it into his mouth. It is a well-practiced motion, one intended to minimize crumbs in the beard.

"That would be ideal, yes. Sadly, my own experience with alchemy is extremely limited. What was the name of that person that we teamed up with for the competition? They might be someone worth talking to. We wouldn't need to explain everything, just that we need a clear substance capable of repelling water." Bolten blows on his tea to cool it off.

[WindStruck]

"Her name was Ash," Shandara says. She takes a small piece of her own honey bun and chews on it. The rest of the bun rests on the saucer.

"Hm. Now that I think about it, I think I have even heard of a solution that is readily available, and used for such applications. A vial of it should cost only about five silver pieces, I think, and you only need to reapply it every few months."

Shandara offers a small piece of bun to Elu, who curiously nibbles on it but doesn't seem interested afterward.

"Well, I guess that's taken care of, then. Anyway, the main reason I wanted to talk to you was regarding the SCORP. You see, while in theory I can create a mental link with crystals like on your other project with the legs, the problem is, this contraption is.. much more complex and automated. So I am not sure how we bridge the gap from the controller thinking they want to go someplace, and then.. all the limbs and scorpion tail doing something. I think you'll need to walk through with me how you have the.. the, uh, control apparatus set up."

She sips some of her tea and abruptly adds, "Oh, and I'll also need to borrow your head for a moment."

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden smiles through Misha's pantomine of druidic distress; her city-girl brand of sarcasm based humor a little saccharine to hit his funnybone correctly. But he has the pleasant, slightly vacant look of a man, a generation or region removed from a target audience, who is close enough to understand that this is the kind of joke that would be hysterical if he just understood it, and he is able osmose sufficient joy through that ephemeral vector.

"Well, I'm glad you like it. I'd have said the opposite - it'd be a shame just to leave it on display, on account of it's purposed for your wearing. Perfect for you, if I've done it right. The thing about perfection is it comes off the back of purpose - a thing can only be perfect for what it's made for. But heck, I'll give you the wooden doll to hang it up on, as soon as you have a place of your own to put it!" He promises, rapping his knuckles on the display doll on which the armor presently hangs; featureless humanoid construction of wooden portions, with wooden sphere joints threaded through with tensioned cords to provide a certain amount of possibility. There are three of them in the room; and fortunately, Aiden has had the good sense not to attempt faces on them or to make them too human looking; their unanimated, woodgrain bodies are about as un--creepy as it is possible to get mannequins to be.

He sends Misha into one of the bedrooms upstairs to try on the armor; makes some notes; has her change out of it again, and takes a few minutes to finalize some of the stitching while she's here. To no one's surprise, he remains chatty as he finishes it up.

"I just really appreciate your help, with the little folks there. I still don't understand them naturally - they understand me, though, and that seems to be enough. I lose sleep sometimes about how close I came to helping build something that might've.. done 'em harm."

For a second it seems like he's run out of words; but he's merely entered a moment of silent focus as he blinks back what might have been a tear or two.

"I've still got that scroll Auntie gave me; but I'm hesitant to use it. I'm hoping, when I get some more advice and help, I'll be able to get them something that'll let them speak common. Like a... Like a little lectern, and the critter that stands at it depresses something that casts a speaking spell on them. Somethin' like that, anyway. I think that's going to be important, because there might come a day when we need to stand before someone official who makes real decisions and make the argument that these are folk; and deserve all the protection and accommodation afforded to them. For that, they'll have to be able to speak in their own stead. Won't be enough to barndance. I'm hoping that you'll be able to help me again; and that you'll stay on retainer. I'll give you a gold a week just to check in once a week and be available; and pay appropriate to what comes up. But first, I wonder if you can talk to the other druids about. Well. This Speak With Animals spell. We need a way to... turn it inside out. You understand? Speak With Humanoids, for animals. Once we can make the spell, I can try to get some people to help out with the rest of it. I've already made a friend, at the Society; and she seems smart as a dart."

This is a little presumptuous, on his part; but well-meaning presumption is his standard operation. It would be extremely generous to call Shandara a friend based on their limited interactions; but off he goes, anyway.

The expression, smart as a dart, must be one specific to wherever he's from. Perhaps some derivative of sharp as a tac, but who can say for sure?

[DeTess]

Aiden's Workshop
"Huh." Misha tilts her head quizzically as she thinks over Aiden's proposal for a 'speak with humanoids' spell. "That's a pretty odd idea. Not sure if we can come up with something like that, though if anyone can, it'd be auntie 'Toma. Just have to figure out a way to convince her its a good idea." she frowns. "That might be a a bit tricky, actually. She's a big fan of us changing to meet nature, not the other way around."

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden's Workshop

"I appreciate her sentiment there. But it's a bit late for that. The experiments granted personhood to these rats in a way that obligates other people to recognise them. And people won't recognize them unless the look them in their little eyes and hear them saying 'I am here'; squeek squeek won't do the trick. Not to mention, they're curious now. It's unfair to elevate their minds but leave them unable to communicate with the wide world of neighbours they've inherited. Auntie Toma seems to just come and go as she pleases - would you tell her I'd appreciate if she could visit me here? I'd be happy to go to somewhere else for her, but.. I have a feeling she'd rather keep the sacred places a secret from the uninitiated like me."

[Prehysterical]

Shandara's Home

Bolten shrugs in response to Shandara's suggestion. "I think I would be hard-pressed to propose anything better." He listens intently as she expresses her concerns about the interaction between the crystals and mental control of the SCORP. Of course, the tone of the conversation takes a drastic turn at Shandara's poor choice of words. Thankfully, Bolten doesn't have anything in his hands, so he doesn't end up spilling tea everywhere as his hands instinctively fly to cradle his head while staring wide-eyed at Shandara. "I need my head, thank you very much!"

[WindStruck]

Shandara stops, tea cup still in hand and peers at Bolten. "Oh, don't be such a baby, Bolten. I only need it for a moment. Or perhaps five."

Setting her cup on the table, she stands and then strides over to the other corner of her house, to the little workshop she has. She returns with an insidious, horrific looking device! With hooks, and jewels, brass wiring!

Wait, jewels? Shandara holds out the mental control unit for Bolten to see. "You see? This is supposed to fit securely over Dukkear's head, but.. well, I'm no expert on designing circlets and headbands for dwarves, and it can't be falling off if he hangs upside-down."

[Prehysterical]

Shandara's Home

Bolten is appalled at Shandara's callousness! At least, until she returns with the headgear intended for the SCORP. Once Shandara explains her reasoning, understanding washes over Bolten. "Oh, I see! You need someone with similar cranial measurements in order to calibrate it properly! See, I thought you meant..." Bolten shakes his head at his own internal accusations of prejudice against his friend. "All right, I shall serve as your head model." The dwarf takes off his tinker's cap and sets it on the table.

[WindStruck]

Shandara says, "I made some preliminary design with my best guess. I figured heads are heads but..."

Hmm, it seemed Bolten's head was a lot wider than expected. "Hrm."

"On second thought, maybe I should just have tried to mount it onto a dwarven mining helmet? It would have provided some extra protection too."

[DeTess]

Aiden's Workshop
"Sure I'll ask her. Once I tell her about the little party you where having here, I'm sure she'll want to see for herself." Misha nods to herself, as if coming to a conclusion or decision. "It's probably a good idea if you're the one to try to convince her anyway. You're a bit better at the whole 'convincing people to do stuff' thing than I am, that's for sure!" The young Druid starts heading for the door, but then stops, as if suddenly remembering something.

"Hey, uhm, if you have some free time sometime..." She wavers for a moment as if reconsidering what she was going to say, but then pushes on nonetheless. "Some friends of mine are trying to fix up an old boat they found lying around. If they can fix it they could go fishing on the river, which should get them some decent money. Thing is, they don't know much about fixing boats. They'd probably appreciate a helping hand, but they don't really have any money to pay someone that knows their stuff and all. Still, I heard you basically build this place you've got here yourself, so I thought you might be able to help them out if you had some time. For free, I mean."

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden animates at the opportunity with wide eyes and a literal, involuntary hop.

"Well, sure! I'd love to help!"

And then, apparently having mistaken 'when you have some time' for something like 'now is good', he turns to the assembling of barn-dance rodentia.

"That'll be it for tonight, folks; but we'll do it all again next week. Oh, and Kenner - I haven't forgotten. I've never made one that small, but I'll try. I'm still looking for the right bit of wood, but more than that, I'm trying to find someone who's able to made strings that small and fine. Might need to come from a different animal than normal; but I promise I'll have you callin' and fiddlin' soon as I can."

He bows to the rats - they bow back, delightfully - and then is immediately about throwing saddlebags on Ambrose, and loading him up with tools. "And where were you, by the way? You used to keep time with that big ol' left hoof, for me; back before you became too cool..."

Once he's bundled up Misha's gift for her benefit and grabbed enough tools to make an assessment on the repairs he'll make on her friend's boat, the fiddler is ready to go.

[Prehysterical]

Shandara's Home

Bolten smiles in wholehearted agreement. "Oh yes, that is a splendid idea! Also makes it less likely for the apparatus to get tangled in hair or snag on skin. Comfort is not the greatest priority, but it is something to consider."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Was that a dig or a compliment, Windstruck?

[WindStruck]

Shandara nods, giving up with the idea of fidgeting with the half-completed circlet she brought out and sets it on the table. "Perhaps you had better come with me, then, to find a good one. I feel like you might know a good helmet better than I, and perhaps, maybe a good intuition about what our client likes..."

She sits down again, absentmindedly chewing on another piece of honeybun before she suddenly looks at Bolten again. "Oh, but before then.. how did you envision interfacing a mental link with your engineering? Perhaps you could explain to me what sort of commands the SCORP could understand, and what exactly it is capable of doing?"

Shandara preemptively raises a shushing hand up at Bolten. "Yes, I remember the drawings. I assume the limbs and tail can move any which way, correct? The tail can shoot out a wire, and the arms can grip things.. but for example, how much degree of motion is there?"

[DeTess]

Aiden's Workshop
"Oh, I didn't exactly mean... Eh, now is as good a time as any, I suppose." Once Aiden had prepared his equipment Misha led the way out of the Stormdrain's district and tot eh same harborside district where Aiden had helped to resolve the rat problem. However, she led him to a completely different area, one not covered in warehouses but in a warren of weathered hovels and houses not all that different from the Stormdrains district. She easily found her way to the warren, eventually stopping at a small hut right at the water's edge. A stone quay led down to a thin strip of gravelly beach, and Aiden could see a small sailing boat laying on it, only about 5 meters in length.

"Oi, Markel, Cliff!" Misha knocks loudly on the door of the house while calling out, and several moments later a malnourished-looking older boy, in his late teens maybe, appears in the doorway.

"Oh, hey Misha." The boy replies softly while shooting a worried look at Aiden. "Cliff's out on the town, seeing if he can earn some money, so it's just me. Uhm, what can I help you with?"

"Hey, remember that craftsman I was doing some jobs for." Misha points over her shoulder at Aiden. "He said he was willing to take a look at that boat for you, for free of course."

"Oh!" the boy's eyes light up. "Thanks for taking the time to help us, mister!" He addresses Aiden, then quickly scampers past him. "This way, please!" He descends down a ladder cut into the side of the stone quay to the gravel beach and leads the way to the boat. The boat itself isn't in great shape. The wood looks like the boat must have washed up somewhere a while back before spending at least two summers baking in the sun without any sort of maintenance. The wood ahs warped in a couple of places, likely causing leaks. However, the small mast laying in the boat and the sail and ropes attached to it appear to be mostly in good order, though its size suggest it might have been taken from a different, slightly smaller boat.

"So, uh, how bad is it?" the boy asks Aiden, worry returning to his face.

[MrAbdiel]

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Markel. She's looking pretty rough. People don't abandon things they see value in. Warped planks, here and here. Someone made repairs with inferior timbers and they're dryrotting now - that's the grey skin you can see over here, by the stern. And the mast, which looks alright, seems to have been cannibalized from another boat entirely. Someone looked at this boat, Markel - someone looked at this boat and decided 'this is worth so little, I'm better off leaving it behind and pretending I never had it at all'." He gives the boat's unfortunate hull a mournful pat, as one might give a beast in poor health that may need to be given a final mercy, and goes quiet for a moment.

And then, with a plucking draw of forefinger and thumb down his beard, he animates again. "But I see... a good frame. I see a boat that, with a little bit of work, can head out on the water again; and with a lot of planning, and love, and good old fashion effort, could be a real cutter out there -" he gestures swiftly to the water, the primal open-horizoned majesty of which seems to agree with notions of hope and opportunity - "...catching the wind and spurning the waves, and faithfully hauling back a great big mess of fish each day you and Cliff put your feet in it. And whoever left it might look out and wish they had such a boat - and boy, oh boy, they'll never know they did, just because they couldn't see what we can see!"

It is not clear whether Aiden knows he is speaking both about boats, and also the greater tragedy of boys like Markel and Cliff growing up in such circumstances. It may be some unconscious instinct to rail for hope and betterment of the conditions of life for folks like these simply glides out unnoticed by his conscious mind, fascinated by the artisan work ahead.

He projects a big hand, calloused to pebble-hardness from their dual loves, music and work. "It's real fine to meet you, Markel. My name's Aiden. We're going to save your boat."

Spoiler: OOC Actions!

Show

No real need for it, but Aiden is going to (subconsciously) attempt to fill this compellingly underprivileged boy with hope for the future and belief in the transformative power of gumption. He'll drop the big once-a-day +8 luck bonus on this diplomacy check! (1d20+23)[42]. Success or fail, he'll spend some time with Misha and Markel looking over the boat until it gets dark; and then use a light cantrip to look a little longer; and then explain the next step is for him to get a wagon and haul the boat back to his barn, where he can work on it. He'll invite Markel and Cliff to come by and help him work on it each day, and use this as a pretext to feed them and generally spoil them, as well as teach them about woodcraft and boat maintenance.
He will make a token effort to hide the fact that he lives with a colony of intelligent barndancing rats. Friends with a druid and children of humble circumstances, they seem unlikely to be widely bothered by the rats anyway. He'll spend the 180GP to begin the major overhaul, the (5GP) fee to get it transported to his barn, and he'll feed them every time they come over to lend labor or check on the thing. If they show interest in learning the craft, he might even be prepared to offer apprenticeship.

[Prehysterical]

Shandara's Home

Bolten falls quiet for a moment as Shandara lays out her concerns about the degree of control necessary for the SCORP. Eventually, he responds:

"Well, as far as the helmet goes, I could make one custom-fitted specifically for him. I would just need his cranial measurements to ensure the snuggest fit.

As for the real problem... The tail does not need to have that much freedom in its movements. After all, it is a glorified cable housing for the crane pulley encased within the shell. Sure, it might need to swing from side to side and precise control is key, but it wouldn't need to do that quickly. This tail would not be as flexible and limber as a real scorpion's tail.

The claws would be in a similar state. These claws are meant for finer manipulation and grasping, not for intensive combat. Again, precision is key, but they would not need to respond as quickly as, say, your hand catching a bottle before it hits the floor.

Our biggest difficulty lies in the legs. Those are the single most important part and require the fastest reaction time. As far as the mental connection goes, I was not envisioning control over every single leg of the SCORP. How I intended the movement to work is that the pilot thinks something along the lines of 'go forward' and the SCORP does just that, the legs automatically seeking out a nearby surface to latch onto for support. These impact sensations would not need to be translated into thoughts or confirmations to the pilot. They have enough going on mentally as it is. Yes, that might mean that a leg misses latching on, but having so many should mean that there are several back-up points of contact. Besides, if the construct tips as a result of a gap, the gyroscopic harness would automatically adjust and the pilot would realize the problem, which would allow them to back up or move to the side to find a better route.

All in all, control of the limbs would be issued as loose commands most of the time rather than direct control. Direct control would only be used when precision is absolutely key. Does... all of that make sense?" Bolten finally stops, wondering if that explanation helped at all or if he had just babbled for five minutes.

[DeTess]

the harbor district
The boy, Markel, looked down in defeat as Aiden delivered his initial verdict on the boat, but then his face lights up again as Aiden continues his explanation, and by the time the bard makes his promise, his eyes are positively sparkling as a smile crosses his face. "You... you really can do that?" The boy asks in wonder, looking between Aiden and Misha.

"Trust me, Aiden can't just talk pretty, he can make some pretty nice stuff as well." Misha replies to Markel with a smile and a thumbs-up.

It takes a little while to get a wagon big enough to transport the boat back to the boy's house, and by the time Aiden has made the arrangements and is ready to start lifting the boat up from the beach, Cliff has returned as well. He appears to be about the same age as Markel, maybe one or two years older, though he appears to be in slightly better health, his stature a bit more robust than Markel's, but its clear that he too isn't getting as much food as he should. he doesn't speak much, but quickly joins Aiden in helping him get the boat up from the beach, and in the process seems to have a real skill for making knots and working ropes.

[WindStruck]

Shandara thinks a bit and nods. "Hm, I suppose that would work. I still need this gem in the helmet though." She points to a somewhat large, flat, and faceted ruby.

"A good helmet is a good helmet regardless, and I have no doubt you can make one with ease. However, just as important as making it fit our client's head snugly, so too does the gem need to fit in its socket..."

She frowns a bit. "How exactly would you intend to measure his skull? I don't think he's here in Vaungate. Perhaps you'd need to go with your best guess?"

[Prehysterical]

Shadara's Home

Bolten shrugs lightly, as if not greatly concerned. "We put together a sword to end an undead tyrant. Mounting a gem onto a helmet is child's play compared to that!" He waves his hand in a dismissive notion, as if to banish any doubts.

"As for his head measurements, I can surely communicate with Lady Orlof. If she doesn't have them somehow, she would know someone who does. Something tells me that Dukkear goes through clothes like meals in his line of work. I'll talk to her tomorrow and see what I can find out. In the meantime, is there anything that I can help with while I'm here?"

[WindStruck]

Shandara smiles lightly. "Yes, of course I know that. I was simply reminding you..."

She just shakes her head and goes back to sipping her tea.

"Hm, I suppose that's all for now. I will try to get the enchantments to pick up simple commands and relay them to your machine. And I'll leave it to you to make sure all the legs and arms do what they are supposed to do after."

[Prehysterical]

Shandara's Home

"You do your part, dawri, and I will do mine," Bolten promises his friend. He takes a sip of his tea... which turns into a grunt of surprised delight. The dwarf ends up downing the entire cup in one go.

"Oh dear... That's dangerous. I think we'll be drinking the whole pot tonight."

[WindStruck]

She raises her eyebrow at Bolten.

"I assure you, there's nothing dangerous about my tea. And I think at this rate, you'll be drinking the whole pot yourself. Though I guess you're welcome to. Better yet, maybe you could take some unbrewed tea home with you?"

Glancing once again at how voraciously Bolten downed the tea, Shandara says, "..on second thought, maybe I will just tell you where I got it from."

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Is the British sitcom over, or do we have more of a sketch to run?

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden lavishes the boys with praise and meandering-but-pleasant stories as they haul the boat, and they help him get it set up on a set of bow-set sawhorses in his barn. He makes sure to feed them before they go - but finds, once he is feeding someone other than himself, he is not that good at it. He has bread and cheese, only the latter of which is mouldy and even then he's quite sure it's meant to be that way... but until that moment, he hadn't realized how much he had depended on the various food vendors whom he encountered at the Society and through his wandering in Vaungate proper. How had he fed himself, before making his way to the city? With a laugh that only the rats hear, he concludes poorly.

Tomorrow, he'd have to see to that.

Spoiler: OOC!

Show

I'm aware that we're trying to slow down Aiden's timeline so the others can catch up, since he's chugged along a little much; so I'm okay with the boat project (and the other, actually remunerative boat project with the Escribano Workshop) not progressing just yet. But Aiden's next project is to get someone who can cook for the boys when they come over to help with the boat. If he can get a maid/cook package who can cook and clean and do it all, that'd be great - but what he definitely needs is someone who can take care of cooking for him, who is open minded enough to also put some effort into using the leftovers for the rats in a way that is more dignified than pouring it into a trough, and who can cook for Markel and Cliff (and Misha and anyone else when relevent). Ideal candidate is someone like a widow who could use a break, and has those domestic skills and not much else; so he can do a good turn by her giving her the opportunity too. Since such people are reasonably likely to live in the Stormdrains, that might work out.

I'm going to have to make a spreadsheet of the people he is keeping on retainer. But for now, we need to find someone who can actually cook!

[MrAbdiel]

Somewhere in the Stormdrains...

A few days hence, as his for-profit and pro-bono nautical endeavours percolate in the background of his life, Aiden is hoping to make a new friend. He walks the streets from his house to his destination with Ambrose clopping uncomplainingly at his side, knowing much of the district with loose instinct by now and delighted to expand that knowledge. He has prepared for this first impression as best he can - that is, by wearing one of the two good shirts he possesses, and wetting back his hair. After this, both this shirt and the one he wore to the prototype demonstration will have been worn in the last week, marking it as a very important week indeed.

"You're going to need to be at your most charming, Ambrose. I'm given to understand she has suffered some; and suffering people will go to great lengths to soothe that suffering. One day, they must confront it and the changes it imposes, however. If we are lucky - if Marian is lucky - she is ready for that now. If not... then we will instead just show her as much kindness as we can."

Ambrose, imperceptibly, adjusts his behaviour accordingly as the residence of Marian Page comes into view.

[Prehysterical]

Bolten's Home

The next day (and one pot of tea later), Bolten is able to secure the measurements without too much trouble from one of Lady Orlof's assistants. Unfortunately, he cannot think of any materials that would be both protective and help conduct the mental energies of the crystals. In the end, Bolten decides to just keep it simple.

As the dwarf goes to work in his forge, he has to consciously rein himself in. Normally, Bolten turns his crafts into a work of art, but Dukkear is a spy. Not only is it unnecessary, but it might put him in danger to have any sort of clan or family insignia on his helmet... For that matter, putting the Cogturner family sigil on it might not be a good idea, either.

In the end, Bolten does his best to keep it simple. He makes the helm open-faced, making it easier for the bearer to breathe. Rather than a boxy greathelm, Bolten tries to keep the outline to a smooth circle to make it easier for Shandara to mount the crystal array. Where he can, Bolten creates deliberate insets in the metal to serve as a niche to place the crystals. If the crystals remain at rest within the helm itself and aren't reliant on wiring to stay seated, all the better. It will also camouflage the helmet's outline much better in the rocky Underdark.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Craft (Armor): (1d20+22)[23]
Just because it basically happens automatically with such a roll, I'm going to go ahead and make it a masterwork. Maybe that'll make it easier to wear on his head.

Helmets aren't their own item as far as priced gear goes, so not sure what the materials would cost or how long it would take.

Yikes, thank goodness I cast Crafter's Fortune before doing that!

[WindStruck]

Over the next few days. Shandara prepares her spells and materials and then designs the enchantments for the gem upon the helmet.

It consisted of detecting the underlying thoughts and desires of the wearer, only insofar as wanting to go places, be it someplace in sight, or in a direction relative to the user. Also there was a bit of "friction" in place, such that fleeting velleities would be ignored. Only a strong sort of decisiveness could begin an action, but it didn't take much willpower to continue on with a repetitive action, much like walking.

The work also involved something similar but with imaginary limbs. There were nine of them altogether: six scorpion legs, two pincers, one tail. These limbs could be controlled individually and deliberately as well. It was more like saying, for instance, place the central-left foot on this rock. The commands for the limbs were designed to also be deliberately abstract, such that one could potentially contort any one limb into odd shapes or patters, within the limits of the machinery's mobility and freedom of movement.

And then finally, there was a secondary gem that was tied to the first. It was smaller, and meant to collect a condensed list of orders from the first gem, and pass it on to the machinery in a way that it could understand. It was then that Shandara had realized she never mentioned another space for a gem that needed to be somewhere on the whole apparatus. Also, she was still rather worried that maybe it wouldn't interpret the commands correctly or be able to act.

But still, with the success of the spy bug, maybe they could patch that over quickly...

[DeTess]

Somewhere in the Stormdrains...
According to the information Aiden had gained Marian lived in a small hovel in one of the backstreets of the Stormdrains. The 'street' itself could hardly be called such. It was so narrow, cramped with shoddily made buildings on both sides that it would be rather difficult for Ambrose to turn around if Aiden decided to head the other way. The buildings above Aiden's head where so close together Neighbors from opposite sides of the street could shake each other's hands from the second-floor windows. The hovel Aiden's search had led him to was particularly dilapidated, and Aiden could hear someone moving around inside through its thin outer walls. However, when the bard knocked on the door, no one answered.