[center][h3]The Zekel-Voight-Greasegear Enigma[/h3][/center]

There were clangs, scraping whines, and occasional booms as Glough’s inspectors sifted through the crates of salvaged machinery and took an inventory. Most tools of value had been evacuated from the Red January in parachute crates prior to its martyrdom at the hands of the party’s enemies. In the days since, recovering those tools had been a high priority, and by now the gnomes were confident that they’d recovered most of what had survived. All of this would come in handy, but of course many of these tools were as [i]useless[/i] as a cave-dwelling troglodyte without the proper fuel.

The gnomes had an advanced understanding of chemics, as evidenced by their knowledge of blasting powder and their ability to harness lightning in their weaponry. But such methods of storing potential energy were considered volatile and inefficient; it was for that reason that the gnomes preferred pneumatic rifles to blasting-powder based ones, for instance. Well, that and because the recoil from a [i]high muzzle-velocity chemic-based-explosion-driven projectile of significant mass[/i] was hard for the small gnomes for withstand.

From a pocket, Glough produced an energy crystal. The sparkling thing was a wonder of gnomish chemics and technology; they produced such crystals from a complicated procedure that involved processing semi-rare minerals. For that reason their current supply was limited and rather precious, but Glough would hear nothing of it. He inserted the gem into the slot of a jackhammer, but in a rare show of restraint, deemed such a thing excessive. Or perhaps he just decided that it was the wrong tool for the job; jackhammers were powered tools for breaking stone, and jackaxes were better for chopping wood and butchering enemies of the state.

He removed the power source from the jackhammer and then ordered an assistant to bring him one such jackaxe, then activated it and adjusted the setting to full force. Laughing as the axe-head automatically whipped back and forth at a blurring speed, he brought the tool upon the trunk of one great tree and felled the stupid thing with ease. Baby birds chirped in terror as their nest in the upper boughs came crashing down. Glough looked at the pathetic survivors with contempt, then crushed them beneath his boot. Finding a gummy mixture of blood and feathers annoying stuck to the bottom, he used attachment number 23 from his multipurpose Gnomish Army knife to flick the remnants out from the treads of his shoe. Let none say that the Director asked of his gnomes anything that he would not do himself!

“Delfus, I believe that this tree might provide sufficient timber to silence Treecog’s whining for the time being,” he did declare. He casually tossed the deactivated jackaxe to a waiting technician so that the felled tree could be debarked and cut into planks and small pieces.

“Yes, that is very well Director, but should we really use our resources so frivolously?” the official stammered.

“A display of force and power is necessary! Do not question party doctrine!”

Even as he chastised his old friend, Glough twirled his mustache in contemplation. “But I see your point,” he admitted. “Very well, now that we’ve salvaged and recovered all of the tools-“

“Well, there were a few pneumatic rifles unaccounted for...” Delfus tried to interrupt, only to be spoken over the whole time.

“...recall the teams and have then search the mountains to the south. Look for any passes through the range, and prospect the area using powered drills and jackhammers and jackshovels. We should have sufficient power crystals in storage for them to do some probing.”

“Yes, Director! A very logical move!” That had gone better than Delfus had expected, so he tapped his red cap in salute and prepared to make a hasty exit before Glough could change his mind.

But then the dwarves came. Glough’s reasonable and good mood went up in smoke at the sight of those uncouth barbarians outside his camp. Speaking of cave-dwelling troglodytes...

“How did those hideous things get into our land unseen?!” Glough demanded to one of his following sycophants. While the party officer tried to find an explanation, Glough was simmering.

“This will not do! Find me a trained animal handler! Or ten!”

“Those things might not quite be animals, Director,” Delfus turned to protest. “Observe their small stature and metal arms, the details of that one’s textiles-“

“Bah! Then find a psychologist too, and have him administer the Zekel-Voight-Greasegear Analysis of Intelligence! I would know just how sapient those foolish looking creatures are before I decide what to do with them. Have the animal handlers on standby in order to tranquilize or slay the beasts if they try anything untoward, or...or if they turn out to be the masterminds behind the evil birds of this land!”

He was confident that the Zekel-Voight-Greasegear Analysis, with its empirically-derived formula to determine levels of sapience from such observations as height, cranial volume, and political alignment would be able to provide a good guideline on just how to proceed.

[hider=Summary]
By now the gnomes have recovered most tools and things of value from the wreckage of the Red January, but there’s still lots of metal etc. left.

 Glough personally chops down a tree to kill some birds and get Treecog a bit of quality timber at the same time!

Action [b]E/G[/b]: Some gnomes are sent into the mountains to explore and prospect.

In response to the arrival of the dwarves, Glough doesn’t immediately show himself. He orders animal handlers on standby while a psychologist administers the Zekel-Voight-Greasegear Analysis to determine if these dwarves are sapient by gnomish standards. If they are just animals, Glough intends to tranquilize and keep them. But if they’re [i]too[/i] smart, he suspects they might be behind the birds’ recent attack on the Red January... 
[/hider]