A Tale of Dieties - IC

[Darth_Malevo]

Dragons with knowledge? Madness!

Bunkrick held his hand up, a sign of pause for the Gnomes behind him. "What sort of knowledge are we talking here? We've got flying machines, weapons that can destroy an entire mountain with a single shot! What can you give us, Dragon, that we cannot produce ourselves?" He asked haughtily.

Perhaps being haughty towards a creature that can crush you in an instant is not a very wise idea, but Bunkrick was a Gnome, and that meant you were proud of your intelligence. Sometimes fatally so.
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Dress to impress

Boddypen sat amongst his brother Gnomes, the surviving crew members lounging about with the social grace of a pack of Dodo birds with their heads chopped off. Several had set about to fiddling with various sizes of lugnuts and bolts, but Boddypen's entrance had made them pause. Several variations of "<Did the signal go up?>" were uttered in Gnomish, and Boddypen shook his head.

"<Not that I saw, though I was unconscious, thanks to a few lazy people in the rear guard...>" Boddypen whispered,
"<So we're...stranded? Nobody back in the city knows we're out here, captured?>"
"<Not that I know of, no. The flare could have gone off, but...did any guards suddenly go rushing off?>" The captain asked, scratching his chin.
"<Not a one. Granted, we're not really in an ideal location for scoping out troop movements, Bod.>" Another of the Gnome survivors put forth.
"<Well, I suppose we'll have to negotiate our way out of here.>" Boddypen remarked, taking the seat and leaning back. "Let's see who's running this show." He said a bit more loudly, looking amongst his comrades in inventing.
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Pixie sticks in a whole new light...

Within the Stone Wagon, abandoned deep in the woods, the last free Gnome of the expedition made his way through the interior. The chaotic landing had destroyed so much of the machinery, and had even activated a few bits he hadn't expected to turn on. Cogs and gears littered the floor, oil staining several spots on the floor. Several holes had been punctured in the stonework from the boiler's launch, and the loss of power had rendered the interior dark. Ruffling through the debris, Finji found what he was looking for.

He vigorously shook it, the baton lighting up as the entrapped pixies were given a rude wake-up call. Eventually they'd break through the sealing, but it'd still last for a few hours. More importantly, it'd be a few hours of bright light. That was more than enough for Finji's job, and he quickly set to it, running along the wagon's various gang planks and clattering down its ladders.