[center][i]An excerpt from the memoirs of Irving Whitepaw: 'A Tail'[/i]
[h2]Of Steel and Alchemical Explosions[/h2][/center]
[center][i]Vietmyke[/i][/center]
[center]Day 1, Morning
Irving Whitepaw[/center]

What was considered early in the morning for most people was already 3 hours into the average day of Irving Whitepaw. Admist a cluttered workshop scurried a small Gæian, just over 4 and a half feet. The workshop itself was a rather small building pressed into a corner of the Guild's more expansive Airdock- where its small fleet of personal airships parked, departing for missions, commutes, and other such tasks that required the power of flight. The Workshop itself was fairly modern, made of ferrocrete and durasteel to provide durability to the frame of the building, whereas the innards of the workshop were coated with hardwoods, bronze, and brass- these materials commonly believed to be more conducive of magical material. 

The interior of the workshop however, concealed any of these cultural roots completely. Walls were covered in shelves cluttered with bits of metal and half built contraptions. Work benches and drafting boards weighed down by partially completed blueprints sat by the walls. The central portion of the workshop was marked by the presence of a sunken floor- made from extremely tough and durable tungsten carbide, over which a half constructed suit of power armor was suspended by a pulley system of chains. An alchemy and enchanting booth sat nearby the sunken floor, a few vials of some sort of glowing blue-white liquid currently being heated and bubbling. A door in the corner of the room led to the rest of the workshop- a hallway that led to Irving's "office", a more complete magical and alchemical work station for which substances could be tested in a controlled area, and a garage for smallship and vehicle repair. 

Irving has just returned from his alchemical room, walking over to the smaller scale alchemy station to turn off the flames that heated the glowing liquids. Pulling one of the vials from its stand, Irving inspected it closely with his goggles, giving it a small swish in his hands before he was satisfied. Reaching into a drawer and pulling out a small set of half a dozen chrome tubes, Irving set them up on a table and poured the glowing liquid into each of them, capping them off with a chrome cap when he finished. Each chrome tube was about the size of a battery, and had a clear slit in the side so one could see the contents within.

Extending his left arm, a slot in Irving's cyber arm slowly flipped open, revealing the top of a chrome tube within. As he pulling the tube out, he felt his arm grow rigid, as it lost power. The liquid inside of the tube he had just removed was dull and viscous, and Irving quickly placed it in a box with other discarded chrome tubes. Placing a fresh one into the slot, Irving closed the slot and felt his arm come back to life. Placing the rest of the plasma batteries into a pocket in his satchel, Irving returned to his current project: a suit of powered armor for a member of the Guild.

The powered armor was one of Irving's more complex creations, it required a large amount of materials and resources that the client had luckily provided, and was built of rather tough carbonized steel alloys, reinforced with magically enhanced duramantium. The armor plates however, were simple to make, and could've been made by any magical blacksmith of moderate repute, it was the system that controlled the armor that was extremely complex. Duramantium, as its name implied, was [i]extremely[/i] durable. A box of half-inch thick duramantium could withstand anything short of a tactical nuclear weapon, with its contents still intact- of course the explosion would probably destroy the bindings and latches which were likely made of lesser materials, but that was a different issue entirely. 

The main issue with Duramantium was that it was prohibitively heavy, a cubic inch block of durmantium weighed 25 pounds, compared to steel, which weighed close to a third of a pound per inch block. Thus, in order for Irving to be able to even try to make a wearable suit of armor, he had to develop a hydraulic system for the limbs and legs- so the user could walk without eventually grinding his leg joints into dust from the weight of the metal. Duramantium was also ridiculously difficult to shape, due to its high resistance to, well, everything. 

The building of the armor was taking quite a while, so Irving took time to work on his own personal projects while he was waiting on his hydraulic system to work. He had already been working on new formulae for mana-based explosives, making them more intense, but more controlled, which would allow the explosives to be used for breaching purposes, well suiting his own role within the guild as an infiltrator and saboteur. The explosives would also allow him to-

[h3][b]WUMP![/b][/h3]    

A dull thump could be [i]felt[/i] throughout the tower as the back room of Irving's workshop exploded, the ferrocrete building thankfully staying in one piece, and an intricate series of valves releasing the explosive energy in a manner that wouldn't set the rest of the tower on fire. 

Irving sneezed, sending a fine layer of soot and magical ash flying off of his body. He wiped the soot and ash from his goggles, as he looked around his workshop. The rest of the workshop, had thankfully been left intact, with things only slightly messier than they were before. Irving lifted the goggles from his eyes.

[color=tan]"Well, [i]that[/i] wasn't supposed to happen."[/color] he said with a shrug, as he sneezed a second time. Moments later, Irving was vaguely aware of Omicron, his service android walking towards the back room with a broom and dustpan.