Snippet #2766101

Jeanne wandered about the Cove, taking in more of its sights, sounds, and smells. Until… she heard a chuckle. Her heels snapped together into a halt as the chuckle broke into laughter, and a rather hysterical one at that. Her lips curled into a feline frown, and her body bent over to eavesdrop behind the Base Commander’s tent.

”Oh, Quinn…,” the jester sighed, her gaze casted downwards. The situation with Miriam’s cage continued to be a hassle. ”I don’t envy your responsibilities, I’ll say that much.” She turned her head to the side, hiding a squinty-eyed pout. ”..Your cute giggles on the other hand… Hmph!”

Jeanne’s eyes wandered, then froze as they looked upon a grisly sight. Men and women, old and young, laying half-dead in tents, crimson blood tainting snow-white bandages. Her face went pale as a sheet, as once again, the gloom of war struck her like a hammer to the face. Marcus, Quinn, the Atwood Twins. This revolution was important to them. Is important.

She gulped, and whipped her head away with a sigh. Times like this, I wish I was better with herbs than an anvil, she lamented privately, before she strode away, from the Commander’s office, from the pain and suffering, and into a warehouse.

The door swung open with a whine. The torches were left unlit, no doubt an effort to conserve what little resources they had. Jeanne stepped inside, one foot at a time. Her boots made no sound as they kissed the floor. She counted every little step, watched each nook and cranny. For a thief like her, with more than two decades of experience, it was only routine. Even when she had no plans to rob the place.

Jeanne looked up and around the storage. Crates and barrels, empty or half-empty littered the place. The little food that remained had been blackened by mould or rot. Cases and cases of glass bottles were left with little more than single drops of mead or rum. A dejected Jeanne exhaled, ”By Soroshii, there’s barely anything here.”

In one corner of the warehouse, was a section filled with a peculiar assortment of wares. Broken cutlasses and arming swords. Ships in bottles. Flintlock pistols with warped barrels or missing triggers. Moth-eaten clothes and termite-ruined books. A nearby sign read, “Salvage, to be sorted”.

Jeanne hunkered down into a crouch, observing crate after crate filled with junk. None of them caught her eye for long, until…

What’s this?

Dainty, gloved hands brushed aside scrap and plucked a… toy? Disc-shaped and 12 inches in diameter with a quarter of that in thickness, a clear glass on the top center featuring the painted silhouette of a jaguar. On the back side, a few gears, a spring, and a little tab sticking out to the side. Jeanne laid a finger upon this tab, and pulled.


A rapid series of clicks followed. The painting blinked, and the jaguar sprung to life, galloping in place before her startled eyes. ”Waooow…” She remained still for a few seconds, repeatedly tugging at the tab to bring the feline back into motion. A myriad questions popped into her head. Who made this? Why? Is it time for lunch yet? But one query nagged at her mind more than the others, as she turned the device over.

...How does it work?

The jester tugged at the tab, repeating the clicks. But this time, Her gaze was transfixed to the back of the device. To the spring which pulled a hammer, which then pushed a nail, into another gear to turn a circular sheet of copper. Jeanne repeatedly turned the device back and forth, watching as the circular sheet spun in tandem with the shifting jaguar.

Even in the dark, Jeanne’s beryl eyes reflected the flicker of the moving images… and more than a twinkle of inspiration. ”A hammer, a rotation… I could use this.” She pulled at the tab, over and over again, then gave a nod so full of vigor, her braid-tails bounced over the top of her head. ”I could use this!”

“Jeanne? Hey Jeanne, you in here?”

Jeanne hopped up in attention, having almost forgotten where she was. ”Marcus! She turned on her feet, then skipped towards the exit, an airy pitter-patter following her every step. ”I’m coming~!”