thebastion | Day 196 // Open

Entry tags:

Day 196 // Open

Who: Paarthurnax and folks
Open: Open
When: 196, in the evening
Where: By the river
What: Amongst the things from a land of mountains and frost: a pair of gloves meant for more than thieves. A creation of metal and steam and other things from a race that didn't need the Calamity to do themselves in. Glowing plants that chime.
Format: any
Warnings: Grampadragon is harmless (usually). No guarantees for the rest of the losers in the Bastion.

In the absence of the group that head to Sky Haven Temple, the Bastion has brought something to fruition for Paarthurnax. In the evening as the dragon returns, he circles about before landing by the riverside to inspect his new prizes.

The most notable is an enormous construct which shines in the light of the dimming sun. It almost seems to breathe in and out, but that's just the puff of steam which exit from it- a sign it's active if nothing else although it doesn't seem to move. Draped across one of its arms are a set of gloves, a dark contrast against the brilliant metal.

The last of his acquisitions would be the plants which now are growing along the river's edge and amongst the shore of the lake. It's harder to tell in the daytime, but as it grows darker, one can see the pale green glow they give off. It's one constant, however, is the faint chiming noise that becomes readily apparent to any who are near to it.

Paarthurnax seems pleased with it all, inspecting the Centurion carefully and brushing his nose against the plants.

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[It's the large construct that draws his attention first - well, aside from the giant dragon, that is. But the dragon is growing more and more mundane the longer he spends here, which he's not sure is a good thing. Tobias spirals around above both the dragon and the Centurion, calling out in thought-speech down to Paarthurnax.]

<That thing's not gonna shoot me, is it?>

[It takes him just a moment to remember thought-speech, and Paarthurnax raises his head to look up at the hawk circling above.]

Nid, it cannot do such a thing. It was made for the Dwemer's tunnels and buildings- best for close combat. Besides, it should not attack any of the Bastion.

<Okay.>

[He glides down, landing on the grass nearby. He tilts his head one way, and then the other. It looks pretty cool. He's not a mechanic, he's more of an artist at heart, but the little of the parts he can see through the seams of the thing look really complicated.]

<What is it? And what's a Dwemer?>

They called it a Centurion.

The Dwemer were an old mer- an old race of elves. They were far beyond all other races when it came to learning... The things they crafted, such as this, have still not been copied by the races of my time. Technology, architecture, magic... Those were just a few of the things they have become famous for.

Yet they were also arrogant and cruel. Such a thing became their undoing. [Paarthurnax breathes heavily through his nose.] Their own Calamity. Only their creations were left behind when my world was still whole.

[He's quiet for a bit, while he thinks that over. A race that had its undoing in cruelty... it's not an unfamiliar story to hear among races throughout the universe, but it's always sad when it does happen.]

<Oh. That... well, it's good that they've left things behind, at least. Some people just get... forgotten.>

['Mer', though... he looks down at the dirt and scratches the characters for the word carefully. He has one too many talons but the characters are passable. He shuffles over so Paarthurnax can look at them.]

<Is that how it's spelled?>

It is a testament to their craftsmanship for it to have survived many centuries and still function so well.

[He pauses when Tobias starts to move, a little familiar with the movements considering they are very much like his own when he must write. As Tobias moves to the side, Paarthurnax gives an approving nod.]

Very good. You have been watching the lesson I have been giving the others, then?

The sight of the strange device arouses Ryu's curiosity as he approaches, his hand instinctively drifting near his sword if the machine suddenly comes to life and attacks. Though the fact Paarthunax is so close to the creature without it attacking seems to indicate it's friendly, or at least inactive.

"Drem yol lok, Paarthunax." He answered, with a bit of a smile on his face. He had certainly been practicing in his mastery of the language. It wasn't common for Ryu to use much of Paar's native language up to this point, but the more confident he felt in it, the more he felt he should use it speaking as one dragon to another.

"I've never seen a machine like that before, though we had robots powered by Chrysm Ore where I come from." He explains, approaching the Centurion a bit closer, though it's plain to see he's a little apprehensive about the robot's presence. Once bitten, twice shy as the saying goes.

If it was possible for Paarthurnax to smile, then he certainly would at the sound of one of his young students speaking to him in his language. Unfortunately, creatures of his nature often only revealed the threat of teeth when trying, and so he simply settled for turning his head and letting out a chuff of warm air over the boy. "Drem yol lok, Volgyol."

He moves aside just a bit to allow Ryu more room to investigate, even if he seemed hesitant. "It is a Centurion- of Dwemer make. Only their race could craft such things. They were intelligent. Clever. It was their undoing in the end, along with arrogance, but their craftsmanship shows with such things as these in Skyrim still."

<Yeah. ... Hopefully you don't mind. I just think it's interesting. It's kind of like art in a lot of ways - just memorizing the shapes and how they go together.>

[He hasn't really sat down to draw in a while, but this is kind of like art he can do without having to morph.]

The sight of the larger dragon's teeth would have done nothing to stir fear in Ryu's heart. As far as he was concerned they were distant kin, even if his experience being with other dragons was extremely limited. On hearing his name, he smiled. It was one decided by Paarthunax, and once he had learned its meaning, he found the name very fitting.

"Machines seem to have a knack for sticking around for a long time." He replied, examining the Centurion closer. "Momo would have liked to learn about the Dwemer. It sounds like something straight out of the Techno Age she taught us about." There's a small, sad smile at the memory. For all he lost even before coming to the Bastion, there were certainly times when loss weighed heavily on his heart. He has a feeling he would eventually come to outlive all of his friends, but he didn't ever want it to happen this soon.

"If my still living is any indication, I wouldn't have counted the Dwemer completely gone. At least before the Calamity."

Colin's approach is visible from quite some distance. The glint of metal in his hands indicates that he's working on something, as he has been doing every day since his return from his own portion of the skyway.

Still, the appearance of something big like that Centurion is enough to catch his attention, and he's coming out to see it. Once he sees the gloves on the golem, he grins and looks at Paar. "Something new has been added, eh Paar?" he asks curiously.

At the other's approach, Paarthurnax turns his head to look at him and gives a nod. "Greh. We do not have such technology as even the Bastion, yet there was a race in my world who were more advanced than the others. This is one of their creations, a Centurion." With great care, he maneuvers himself more around the hulk of metal and whistling steam and makes a nudging motion with his head.

"I had hoped you would find it interesting, if not of use."

"Who can say. This place has done many things and shown us more still that some would not have thought possible." Paarthuranx settled down, wings pressing against the earth and tail brushing against some of the Nirnroot which was still quietly chiming away. "I suppose all we can do for questions such as that is to wait and see what the future answers with."

Zuko was just making a late visit to the turtle ducks. The glowing, chiming plants which the reptile-birds have discovered might have been cause enough for curiosity, but that thing across the river is about as conspicuous as they come. It's also a bit alarming, although whatever it is, Paarthurnax seems to have it under control.

Still, she finds herself making an absent and entirely unnecessary 'stay here' motion to the turtle ducks and making her way across the river. Closer up, it's most definitely not a statue; those are gears. And it seems to be... steam-powered?

"What is that thing?" It's like some sort of machine soldier. In the back of her mind, she wonders if there's some world where this qualifies as a person. It doesn't, right?

"Interesting is certainly an understatement," Colin says, raising one hand in a pausing gesture. He retrieves his toolkit and puts away the tool he had in his hands, and tucks his project away in one of his numerous pockets. With his gear safely stowed away, he approaches the Centurion and walks around it, studying it with plainly evident curiosity. "It's always fascinating to see early successes in the field of bipedal automatons. In spite of how we all make it look, being able to walk is one of the great challenges of the world, remarkably difficult to teach to artificial creations."

He smiles at the Centurion, and cants his head slightly. "You got a name?" he asks. He doesn't want to assume that it might not be sentient if it could be, and frankly, he's seen less advanced things with feelings.

He does doubt that Paar would bring in an artificial life form like that, but it never hurts to check.

That seems to be the question many are asking today, but Paarthurnax does not mind. Even back in Skyrim, such a question would not be unfounded. Only those who ventured into the Dwemer ruins or perhaps natives to Markarth would have grown used to these creations. They were an oddity and a marvel still for them there. Here, it appears that many feel the same way.

"It is a Centurion," he explains, patient tone as always. "In my world, elves known as Dwemer could craft them and other marvels. They were more advanced than anyone else in the history of that place, but their arrogance lead to their disappearance. Only their handiwork remained. Ah, but it is fine work indeed to last for so many years."

The doubt is well founded, as proven when there's no true answer to Colin's question. The only answer is the quiet hiss of steam and the steady low sound of working gears moving against one another. There's no intelligence for it, and also no mechanic for answering- the Dwemer built this with a purpose in mind and it wasn't for idle chatter.

Paarthurnax also waits to see if there is any response before he makes a low thoughtful rumble. "I see. That would explain their other works, then. The Dwemer have made other such creations, one of which is a sphere warrior. It becomes a ball which rolls, and uncurls itself to show the upper body when beginning battle. There were also their smallest known creations, small spider like devices. Perhaps it were these designs they craft first- ah, or that which were easiest to make quicker than Centurions."

Zuko doesn't know what an elf is, but she surmises that amounts to 'man-made.' She moves closer, peering cautiously up at it.

"Can you make it fight for you?" Like many things around here, she isn't certain how that would work, but she can't imagine what other purpose it has with those weapons apparently grafted to its arms.

"Spheres are among the most common of self-propelled creations, since they don't need balance except for the simple ability to tell which way is up," Colin tells Paar, smiling as he continues to study the Centurion. "Spiders, likewise, are also pretty common. With eight points of stability, you've got a lot more room to correct for mistakes. As are things with simple wheels and axles, since they don't have to attempt to navigate uneven terrain. Though, they're more limited in their ability to..."

He trails off, and he laughs quietly to himself. "Sorry about that, was going off on another tangent," he says.

It's easy to tell that his brain is working overtime as he inspects the Centurion. One can almost see the mathematical equations dancing through his head if they watch him.

The Centurion stares emotionlessly back, metal face long since molded into the expression it would wear for as long as it existed. There's no way for it to communicate- it wasn't built for that. It's doubtful it even can. But it doesn't attack her, so that's realy all that's needed.

"Possibly," Paarthurnax replies. "They were made to protect the strongholds of the Dwemer, but I would not doubt the Bastion would have it listen to us. This is for Colin- he will be able to pry more answers from it. I have trust in his skills."

A warm chuff of air will flow up against the back of Colin's shirt and hair, amsued. "Speak as much as you wish, Wahliikjun, for you know I enjoy our talks. I have learned much from listening to you." Still, Paarthurnax falls silent, content to leave Colin to his inspection. Quiet sometimes does best for thoughts on such complicated things, at least when they are new.

Not being attacked is always a plus.

Zuko frowns at the mention of Colin, but nods grudgingly. "Maybe. They do seem to have more advanced technology wherever he comes from. My people had steam power, but- none of our engines were this small." Not that the Centurion is small, but definitely smaller than the ships and tanks she's familiar with.

Colin grins back at Paar, and he looks just as amused. "Thanks," he says. "Anyway, the problem with most automatons is balance. Once you can teach something to walk, you still have to give it the tools to correct itself when it loses its footing. All of us have spent almost all of our lives walking, and we still find it far too easy to lose our footing. We only know how because we've spent all of our lives doing just that, and it comes naturally to us. For machines, just learning to walk without tipping over is a challenge."

He reaches out to pat the Centurion's leg, perhaps a little more forcefully than is necessary, but completely without malice. "Once they master that, they still have to learn to correct missteps without over-correcting," he explains. "Nothing brings out the parental instincts of an engineer like watching a new robot stumble around as it tries to make sense of programming that tell it things WILL go wrong, and this is how it's supposed to correct it when it does."

He smiles at the Centurion then, and he nods to it. "I look forward to working with you, tough guy," he says fondly. "I bet we'll have lots of things to teach each other."

People frowning at the mention of Colin's name is nothing new, so Paarthurnax brings no attention to it. He simply listens patiently to the description of Zuko's homeland and nods.

"The Dwemer could make smaller still. This is simply the largest of their metal creatures. They could make other warriors which rolled about in spheres, or small metal spiders which I have heard repaired their cities and creations." Paarthurnax nods slightly. "Their knowledge knew bounds, but it was still very vast in comparison to many others."

Zuko is still inspecting the Centurion. It's easier for her to wrap her mind around than some of the machines here, because she can at least fathom making an engine smaller, but she can't figure out how anyone would make it do things without constant instruction. Probably other people understand it without any thought.

"That's a lot of knowledge that's been lost." And she doesn't just mean these Dwemer Paarthurnax is talking about.

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Day 196 // Open

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